Heaven's Burning
by Ai-no-Tora
Summary: Creegan saves a wounded woman and keeps her at his apartment wo alerting the proper authorities. Yet the woman Hallie, later on grows attracted to the detective, & will get rid of any obstacles due to her unstable mind, including his partner. [FINISHED]
1. Shameless :Pilot:

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Caveat/Disclaimer: ::_This is an experiment - I might/might not finish this story depending on the demand for continuance_:: I'm only a fan-fiction writer, therefore I do not have any affiliations whatsoever with the whole Touching Evil network but am a very big fan. Park Avenue's a fabricated location, although I don't really know if there's a place in California called "Park Avenue"...if there is one then I had absolutely no idea. This story takes place about a year or so AFTER the episode "Boston" which is the most recent I've seen. This story might get a bit better the more I see of Touching Evil, I just couldn't wait to write my own fan-fic!! LOL So let me know if there's anything I need to change - I have no expertise whatsoever with the FBI units and whatnot. :) And man is Jeffrey Donovan so...well, pick a suitable adjective or definition, I just think he's simply...wow. :P He might not think so but so many others do. :D Bon-appetit!

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- Heaven's Burning - Rated PG-13-R for language, etc.

by Mia or Ai-no-Tora

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Chapter One: "Shameless"

He remembered that he couldn't sleep that night, which was an understatement considering everything he had gone through. Had he expected to bypass his heavy case of insomnia any time soon? His sweats were heavy from the rain that started to fall about 10 minutes into the run. Thoughts collecting around everything that he wasn't supposed to dwell on - from the past, the family that wasn't his anymore, to his job, then it always seemed to end on one particular woman every single time.

He discussed it over with Cyril before he was moved out - perhaps he'd bring it up again once he comes back. Not that he never visited. Something in him liked talking about her and Cyril did nothing but make him feel better about his newly-found emotions that linked him to his partner, his co-worker and colleague, his very good friend Susan.

The handsomely grungy detective only just recently realized there was something more to Susan than she seemed. No matter how much he wanted to know more about Susan's past and no matter how many times he had tried to ask her, she would simply wave it away like an annoying fly buzzing before her nose.

Before he could tread further into the matter, Susan had left the country for some business on God only knows what and another questionable topic fell unreluctantly into his lap. He found her in the middle of Park Avenue during the early morning jog - or was it his really late night jog? Either way, it didn't stop the rain from soaking through the thin rice-paper colored dress that covered the girl, the lower part of her gown drenched in blood from what seemed a festering knife wound to her thigh.

The vein on his forehead pulsed near his infamous scar as he carried her back to his apartment, not even caring whether or not the dress was by now see-thru and his realization of her lack of underclothing. The rain seeped into his vision and he blinked it away, biceps straining under his small burden. His mattress gave a soft squeak below the weight of her chilled body as he reached over her to turn on the lamp at his bedside.

Two thoughts came and went through his head as he went to retrieve a dry towel from his bathroom in attempts to dry her and dress her wound. He could have had his bed tonight if he so wished, if he had made a phone call to the ambulance. He would have had warm not to mention dry bed-sheets. The second thought was how blue her lips looked under the yellowing light of the nearby light-bulb. Contrasting colors. At least blue and yellow were the colors he could identify with at the moment.

Shame would have been apparent in his rose-colored cheeks were he to find the girl post-neurological basket-head had he come to be after his accident as he stripped her of her sopping wet clothing, balling it up and throwing it in the empty hamper like Shaq would have made a free throw. He turned his attention to her wound, grabbing the materials and tools from his nightstand drawer and went to work. As he held her thigh in his hand, he could not get over the fact at how small she was, how vulnerable.

He was quick to discover she was not a girl, not quite a woman either - he mused over the Britney Spears song that whispered from the back of his mind. She must've been in her early to mid thirties though she seemed much younger. Finding something that fit her certainly wouldn't be a problem he determined right away.

Her wound bound and properly dressed, he lifted her up and tried his best to fit one of his dark blue cotton sweaters over her head, pulling it down and without regret nor shame, he took in a full view of her body and soft round features that came with the female anatomy. He knew it was wrong, he just didn't feel the need to look away. She was unconscious - she'd hardly care.

At least that's what he gathered from his conscience, setting her down on the opposite side of the bed where it was dry. He set a different set of comforters over her since the other set got drenched. He was about to rise and straighten when something caught his eye. Under his scrutiny, her lips retained a soft rose-petal rouge, her cheeks becoming more colorful and lively and as he released her hair from its confining band, her raven hair framed her round yet contoured face with such gentle softness. A frown as it seemed was permanently etched within her features as though she disagreed with something whilst she dreamt.

He swallowed, his lip twitching ever the slightest. She was...pretty? Beautiful? His head tilted a bit in observation and thought, blue eyes sparkling. He assumed he should be comparing her to something along the characteristics of his ex-wife Holly, but that didn't seem right. Then the face of his detective partner appeared in his mind. Branca was the closest thing as another woman in his life. Somehow he felt almost guilty at the thought. This girl - no, woman - was certainly one of those in which he would have been attracted to were he to see her anywhere else other than in the middle of Park Avenue - not including Susan Branca - this woman, soaked, wounded, abandoned. It almost was as if it were all planned.

He'd just seen her without a stitch of clothing, so he reasoned he'd be getting ahead of himself as he rose turning the light off and heading for the shower, peeling off his own wet clothes and closing the door. Perhaps the gunshot to his head didn't hinder his amount of testosterone whatsoever, it seemed.

All through that night she made no sound except the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the only sign of life that marked her being.

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David reclined near the bed in an old navy blue Lazy-boy, sifting through many a file on his lap. Reaching over, he turned off the lamp, taking in a deep breath as darkness washed over him. He glanced at the bright-green digital clock on the night-stand. Quarter to three in the morning. He rubbed his right temple with his middle and index finger; boredom was caving in - he was beginning to wonder why he hadn't purchased any dirty magazines considering the fact that he now didn't care who saw him buy them. He needed a sex-life too, even if it was with himself.

The unknown woman turned slightly in her sleep, but that was all the movement she'd made for a long while. Suddenly he reached for his cell-phone; no one had told him where Branca was heading off to, just that she was gone and he was immediately set to work with Bernal - or if not Rivers. Either men weren't on the top of his list of top ten colleagues. So did that mean Branca was? He silently tilted his head to the side.

Yeah seriously: What exactly _did_ he think of her?

If he was going to be brutally honest about everything and everyone in his life, can't he at least be honest with himself? Without another thought he flipped open his cell, holding his thumb over 2 which was the direct line to Susan (since none can be assigned to 1), feeling all around the edges of it in the dark. He recalled the days when the number 2 in his cell directory was his house. His old house. No. Holly's house. Holly's _old_ house. Now he couldn't figure out exactly when he had gotten up the energy to change it.

The clock ticked. Still his thumb hovered over the flat surface of the number two button. This would be the second time since her leave that he'd been trying to get a hold of her. Not returning his call hurt him only a little - but still hurt him. His thumb was shaking. What the hell was the fucking problem?? This was getting ridiculous. This wasn't shame was it? What sort of faculty did he retain in his brain that made him hesitate?

All in all, he stayed that way for the longest time that night - _morning,_ almost comically statuesque.

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	2. Night Knight

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Caveat: I have no TE involvement at all, just a very big fan. Don't own nothing so get off my back! lol

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- Heaven's Burning -

by Mia Ai-no-Tora

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Chapter Two: "Night Knight"

"_Nooooo!_" The shriek ran through her ears and outward into the darkness, and she flailed until the blanket fell off onto the floor. Sweat permeated her skin, slipping from her hairline onto her brow and into her eyes, salty and stinging. She blinked away tears and fear, trying to focus as to her whereabouts. She breathed heavily as she tried to calm her racing heart, one hand bunching up the material on her chest, the other searching for the wound on her thigh. To her surprise she found gauze covering her left thigh and she frowned all the more, confused beyond all doubt.

"It's all right, you're safe." She held in a gasp as she shook from being startled at the matter-of-fact male voice that came from her right, then someone sat down on the bed in front of her. "Having a nightmare were you? Here," A hand reached for hers, warm, calloused yet firm. She only shook slightly as the darkness-masked stranger closed his fingers around her own, then grasping it around what felt like a cup, almost hot to the touch. "You woke up just in time to drink my hot cocoa." She heard his smile.

"Could...Could you turn on..." Her voice was scratchy.

"Way ahead o' ya." He had a slight accent - Boston or Chicago - or so it sounded to her. As soon as the words escaped his lips was when the light came, the lamp that was on the night-stand to her right. She squinted at the sudden onslaught to her vision, her irises turning to small pinpoints. Then she saw him. It was like seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time. She remembered how she held her breath at the sight that was the same now. She saw the lips first, plump and naturally swollen as though he were born to kiss, the charming blue eyes and devil-may-care smile. The short dark hair that sat atop his head was tousled as though he had just recently woken up too even though it was still dark; no morning light emerged from the curtains which was also on the right wall. Indeed, he was handsome yet there was also something that made her look twice; a small, centimeter long vertical scar center-right of his forehead.

He noticed her studying him and he frowned a little. "Is there something on my face?" In result he wiped his hands all over his face, pinching his nose, rubbing his lips and cheeks. She giggled a little and wondered why she'd never seen him around before. At that, her gaze went down to the drink in her hands as she lifted it to her lips. The warm liquid seemed to seep into her soul to comfort, and she closed her eyes - only to see her attacker coming at her with a flash of his blade. Her eyes shot open, her face clouding in alarm.

"Hey - you okay?" He leaned forward in concern.

"Yeah...yes. I just...was attacked at the park - he cut me first, grabbed my purse and ran off...I guess I must've fainted or something..." She broke off, taking a deep shaking breath before looking up at him. "I guess you...rescued me then?"

The handsome man shrugged half-heartedly, picking at a torn hole on the heel of his sock of the foot that he laid on his knee. "That's me, your nutty knight," he grinned slightly. "You were unconscious when I found you, a half a foot long cut on your thigh. You tell me." He seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say then immediately turned to her again. "Oh yeah, my name's Creegan. Call me David, Creegan. David Creegan. Creegan David. Whatever suits your preference."

She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity about this man heightening. He had the mannerisms of an adolescent, seemingly impassive, yet he was a full-grown man from what she could see. "Piper," She smiled slightly at the James Bond introduction. "Hallie Piper. Call me Hallie or..." She jumped slightly when he jerked his hand toward her, and she slowly reached out only to have him grab it quickly in a firm shake. Her cheeks warmed.

"Pleasure, Ms. Piper," She watched his lips pronounce her name. He grinned with such free wry humor and released her hand. "Well, unless you prefer _Mrs. _Piper..."

"You were right the first time." She indicated by her ringless marriage finger.

His brow twitched. "Oh. I didn't look..."

It was her turn to cough uncomfortably. "Well...you would have had to in order to get me into this sweater." He met her eyes, then after a moment smiled. "OK, so yeah, I'll admit to peeking a little. Call me a pervert if you want, not like it changes anything."

"What, like you took advantage of an unconscious female?"

"That, and you have a beautiful pair of breasts." Before she could reply, he got to his feet and headed for the door. "Don't let that get to your head though - I've seen better." He laughed heartily and she didn't know exactly how to react. She watched him until she couldn't see him anymore, then finally felt the hot burning of her cheeks that probably wasn't from getting a fever. She was awed at the shamelessness this man seemed to radiate. "So, don't you like need to take a major leak or something? You probably don't realize just how long you've slept." He spoke louder than normal so that she was able to hear him as he clinked wares in the kitchen, then the sound of the faucet came on, then the opening and shutting of a microwave door and the low hum as it heated something.

"Oh..." She cleared her throat. "Well, how long have I been sleeping exactly?" She sat there staring at the doorway until he reappeared, returning to his place next to her.

"I'd say about a day and two nights, this night being the...second night," He cleared his throat by coughing loudly without turning away and covering his mouth, and she wondered whether or not this guy was still in college or something.

At the news, she seemed stunned. "What? I never sleep that long...I've _never_ slept for that long before..."

"Wounded," he reminded her by patting lightly on her thigh. "I guess you've never been young before then?" He seemed to have this playful mischief highlighting his every notion and it made him even more attractive then he already was.

"Of course I have," she said with certainty, staring down into her cup. "I've just always been one of those kids who liked to get up early. I always thought I'd miss something if I didn't, and I just thought I'd have plenty of time to sleep away my life whenever my death came." Hallie then nursed her cocoa. He frowned in thought at that, his gaze faraway.

"You're right...I guess you didn't need a close encounter to make you see just how precious life is before it gets taken away."

Her gaze was suddenly directed to his scar, and she wanted to ask and was about to when the microwave beeped loudly, signaling whatever was in there was good and hot. He got up once again and disappeared into the kitchen, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow like a dog ear marking a page of a book. She tried to finish the rest of her drink, trying to retrace her steps before she got mugged on the way home. It was a man, that much was for sure. His deep voice grunted as he'd pushed at her for her purse, the strength and force that could only come from a male. She shuddered at the thought that he could have done something far more than the knife cut and the robbing of her purse.

Then there was Danny. He was her cousin, her only family she had left. She had just visited him from the hospital - the doctor said it wasn't looking good. The cancer was spreading. Time was not on either of their sides. She was startled as a tear fell from her eye into her cup, and she looked up quickly to see David standing there, quiet with sympathy written in his deep eyes as he watched her. He sat down next to her again, a little closer this time and he held his mug between them; she could feel the warmth of his breath, his light musky scent. Almost if not incredibly comforting.

"Hungry?" Was his question.

Funny, she never thought that that was what he was going to ask. Something like _are you all right, _or _what is it? Do you need to call someone?_ But no. This...David Creegan, with a photograph of a pair of little girls framed on his night-stand, and with his own ring finger bare, was quite definitely something else.

She took a deep breath and attempted a smile, sniffling a little. "Yes. Yes I am." And he left for the kitchen just as quickly as he came.

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Notes: Don't you just love how Creegan just says whatever comes to mind? I did my research on Jeffrey Donovan's character by watching/reading all the stuff that makes Creegan tick down to the latest interviews and I found it quite fascinating. The ability to say whatever comes to mind is something very fun to play around with - no matter what, there's no need for editing as to whatever he feels. Awesome. Oh, and I'd appreciate feedback very much!

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	3. Dream of a Memory

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Caveat: I disclaim any rights of owning Touching Evil. Damn. Oh, and that I also suck at relating with anything the OSC Unit - barely any knowledge of it, so sorry - I'll try though. I basically focus on the personal involvements with the detectives and not the cases themselves - although that might soon change. I'm trying to come up with a case for them to work on and I think I've gotten it - and it involves Creegan, Branca and Piper very intravenously. I love creating weird scenes using Creegan's weirdness...so I hope you enjoy them and that he isn't too out of character.

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-Heaven's Burning-

by Mia Ai-no-Tora

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Chapter Three: "Dream of a Memory"

"Nh...fh..." He grunted in his sleep, a frown creasing his forehead, eyes moving rapidly in REM. It was officially 5:01 A.M..

Hallie watched him with curiosity from where she sat in a nearby chair. Creegan slept in the living room after she had fallen asleep talking with him and how she had discovered him to be a detective - although she expected him to sleep on the couch like any normal person. Once she'd awoken in the morning though, she with utter wonderment, found him sleeping under the coffee table. Wearing only his underwear, he slept on his back, an arm lain across his chest with his thin sheet kicked off. He was the most unusual detective she'd ever seen by a long shot.

Now that she thought more about it, he was the most unusual and attractive detective she'd ever heard of. The more she looked at him, a light blush sneaked up from her neck and onto her face. How shameful.

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"So, you ready yet?" His brother-in-law to be and best man whispered; David turned and beamed in pleasure at the sight of his beautiful bride walking down the aisle donned in an enchanting white gown.

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"Stupid question, Sam..." _He replied in an equally quiet tone, speaking without moving his lips as an insanely happy grin caressed his mouth. He closed his eyes and for a moment he felt the odd sensation of being pulled. He opened his eyes to find himself being embraced by warm arms, overlooking a crib with a tiny little life bundled within it, wide sky-blue eyes staring up at him. A baby mobile with baby monkeys and bananas twirled over the crib to a soft lullaby._

"Samantha honey, you won't be alone for very long. Little sister or brother is coming around soon." Holly had the perfect expression of serenity on her face, and her arms tightened around him. He smiled softly, feeling the pressure of her swelling belly once again pressing against him.

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"How sad..." He glanced away from his breakfast to Holly speaking on the phone near the kitchen counter. "How close were they to getting married? Oh wow...I wonder what could have possibly possessed him, and in that way too. I hope she...that woman will get past this - oh, Branca? Susan. I see. Mm. Well, the last thing she needs is to have everyone gossiping about it. Tracy, you know..."

He felt himself react to something in his dream because he felt a muscle spasm travel from his toes to his head, making him get up very quickly - only to feel a sharp pain in his head afterward and smack right back down onto the floor. Groaning, he opened his eyes to look up at the bottom of his glass coffee table and the white ceiling beyond it.

"Um, are you all right??" He looked off to the side and also saw a rather pretty dark-haired woman beyond the glass, wearing one of his sweaters and pants that looked like his. He blinked for a moment then it all clicked.

"Yeah, I'm great. I needed it anyway..." Rolling off to the side, he groaned as he rose and stretched, arms above his head and a big yawn to tie it off with. He only vaguely felt the sensation of her eyes on him but he chose to ignore it. "Hmmm..." He rubbed his eyes, blearily glanced at Hallie for a second, reached down with one hand and into his undies for a quick scratch before walking past her to his bedroom. Again he chose to either ignore or not notice her reaction. "Good morning - sleep good?" He asked loud enough for her to hear as he retrieved a clean pair of well-worn blue jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt along with a new pair of undies and changed into them.

"Er...yes. I slept fine..." He hurried his pace and slid on his shoulder-holster, feeling slightly better with the feeling of his gun next to his chest. He walked into the living-room and stopped in front of her. She swallowed with something akin to wariness and something she couldn't quite place her finger on.

"Good. That's good..." His eyes traveled every which way, walked back into his bedroom, then returned with his badge, cell-phone and his jacket. "Listen Ms. Piper, I'm on the run to work. I'll have someone sent over to be notified about your situation while I'm in the car," He strode over to the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed the milk carton, took a big swig and with an adorable milk mustache he went on, "So if you want to eat or something go right ahead but I'm afraid there isn't much in here except booze, milk - I'd be careful about the milk though," To emphasize his point, he let out a big belch. "And what else have we got in here..." He disappeared for a moment behind the fridge door, then reappeared. "Ou'douvres...? My partner had me take them home after some meeting - oh and there's Cyril's old cereal too, I hope you're not lactose intolerant and don't mind Lucky Charms ..."

He chuckled, closed the milk carton and put it back then closed the door. He then walked over to her and she seemed to have such a confused expression on her face. "If there's anything else you need, my digits and info's on my night-stand and..." Seconds ticked as he tried to think of anything else. "And um, I think that's it. I hope you have everything you need at the moment - you can use my razor to shave your legs too if you want." He smiled politely and strode over to his door, opened it and stepped out - not leaving without peeking in and adding, "Could you please lock it on your way out? Thanks." The door was shut. All at once Hallie exhaled - she never believed she held her breath for so long. What the hell was up with this incredibly attractive yet oddball man? The door opened again and she jumped in surprise to see him come back in. "Shoes," he quickly muttered, going over to the bedroom, coming back with these leather boots on. Much to her surprise he didn't seem embarrassed at all as he opened the door, walked through it and shut it behind him again.

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	4. Wanting To See You

> **Caveat:** Nope, don't own anything that's associated with Touching Evil except for the rather obvious - Hallie Piper and all that's up with her is part of my imagination. Love J. Donovan's character and JD himself. He's a genius (so far - as in he's yet to disappoint me, not that he will tho). Now this chapter's a little long...well, longer than all the others because the title is from both Susan Branca and Hallie Piper, wanting to see only one particular detective. :D  
  
**- Heaven's Burning -**  
  
by Mia Ai-no-Tora  
  
**Chapter Four:** "Wanting to See You"  
  
_A day later.  
_  
Noon had just struck the hour. She flew in from Los Angeles at 6 that morning, having attended her aunt's funeral. For four days she had not any contact with David Creegan whatsoever; perhaps she used the trip as an excuse to get her thoughts together. Having worked together for as long as they have, she did not know where to take her feelings, either out the window or to bring it up with him. Maybe he didn't even notice how she felt for him; maybe his head was too messed up to be even thinking about her other than a colleague, a sidekick. Detective Branca sighed in her desk chair, pinching the upper bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes tightly.  
  
It was like being in love with an airplane - it could make you feel like you were so high up in the clouds as though you were the only person on the planet, only you couldn't make love to an airplane as well as you should. Susan's mouth upturned in a wry smile at the mental image she concocted behind her eyelids. Detective David Creegan, head of a man but with a sturdy body of a 747. She would have laughed out loud at the simile if her heart could stop stinging.  
  
"Knock knock." Her head shot up quickly, looked up to find him at her doorway with a bouquet of rapidly wilting lilies wrapped in pink plastic in his left hand. She felt her breath hitch in her throat. "You didn't call. Nobody'd tell me when you'd be back and lo and behold, here you are." He strode toward her, offering her the flowers. "It was like some ongoing conspiracy. Anyway, I'm sorry about your aunt." He'd finally managed to squeeze it out of Enright, the captain begrudgingly relayed the info just to make him go away. He tried to sympathize though she knew already it wasn't really the best thing in his department.  
  
A smile was brought to Susan's lips, a smile she hadn't smiled in what felt like years. "Thanks. I just wanted some time to get back on my feet is all." She took the flowers, made the classic show of sniffing them, then putting them in the empty vase she always had for flowers on her desk. "Thank you. They're...beautiful." And they were. Just the fact that he tried to get a hold of her was more than she could ask for - the flowers were totally unexpected and within her heart a small flame ignited if only briefly.  
  
He sat down in one of the chairs, leaning forward to study her face as it always comforted him to know she was somewhere nearby. Almost like a security blanket. Bits of his dream he'd struggled to hold onto were escaping through his mind's fingertips; he figured there was no need to mention it.  
  
Creegan cleared his throat and began with: "So...how was it?" She gave him a knowing look as though he'd asked her whether or not she was a virgin, and he sat back. "Oh. Well, you know I'm trying to make casual conversation. Yadda-yadda-yadda, weather, blah-blah-blah, I'm fine and you...?" Susan blinked for a moment; she felt like she should be making up for the time she was gone and not telling him of her whereabouts. Though at times she just hated avoiding the obvious. She wanted to know the details of the woman he had brought into his apartment, a wounded yet attractive female, and he had not called in the proper authorities to take care of it.  
  
Imagine David romancing the woman in his bed into the early hours of the morning. Cyril guessed as much when she visited him over at a home they stationed him in every three months for at least two weeks trying to make him get used to being less dependent of David; she remembered how after she spilled her second cup of Earl Grey that Cyril commented that she needn't be jealous. She had scoffed and was still scoffing in her mind. _Jealous. Utterly preposterous._  
  
Yet the decision was made.  
  
Suddenly she stood and Creegan watched her in puzzlement, seeing the changes in her mood. "I heard about Hallie Piper. She all right?"  
  
Creegan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, she's fine," Her thoughts went elsewhere at the underlying meaning imagined in her mind. "She's visiting her cancer-patient cousin at the Green's Hospital at the moment."  
  
Susan had her back to him, trying to hide the strain in her voice as she tried to make herself look occupied by picking up and riffling through a random file in her hand. "So why didn't you call for help at least or report it immediately?" She decided to get right down to the brass tax. He shrugged, taking apart one of the pens he found laying on her desk. She turned and frowned at him and he realized she couldn't see when he'd shrugged.  
  
His tone was casual, confident. "Eh, I don't know...I thought I could handle it myself. I did, didn't I?" His deft fingers unscrewed the cap and pulled the ink out, squeezing it and trying to milk it of the ink inside. He didn't look at her.  
  
That's what annoyed her even more. "Hmm. Sure." She looked toward the window and at her own irate reflection in the glass. Silence. Then, "So what're you doing here?"  
  
David's hands stilled and he seemed to ponder over that question, his lips pouting as it always did when he was thinking of a suitable reply. He shifted in the cushioned yet uncomfortable chair and he all of a sudden wanted to see Susan's expression at the moment as he could always identify the emotion she felt by looking at her. He thought her a frail beauty, no doubt that much he could perceive in his state of mind. Someone with frail beauty have experienced the greatest of joy and the heaviest of heartaches as badges on their shoulders. Susan was one of those types, and that was one of the things that tied him to her.  
  
Though right now something just didn't feel quite right. She didn't look at him when he wanted her to. That's what began to annoy him then. "Can't I say hi once in a while? Have a nice cup o' tea?" He tried to feign amusement with a British accent, then his tone grew serious. "I just don't really see you as often as I used to and I get paired up with Bernal or Rivers more than I'd like to - and you know Susan, it isn't like the Good-Old Boy Club, they're always watching me to see if I'm going to do anything stupid." He paused for a second as dark blue ink got all over his hands. "You didn't tell me when you were going to leave. You didn't tell me where you were going. You didn't tell me when you were coming back. I found myself finishing the last case alone and I was totally left in the dark. We are partners, aren't we? Unless something happened without my knowledge like, oh say, someone getting shot in the head?" He wanted to smile at his victory for making her look at him, but she didn't only look at him - she nearly looked vindictive, her bright blue eyes flashing at him. David vaguely began to feel the sensation of confusion seeping into his mind.  
  
"Oh, so you freely joke about that now hm?"  
  
"Sure. Why not? Am I supposed to feel ashamed?"  
  
She rolled her eyes, shook her head then tossed the file she held on her desk. "If only, Creegan, if only." She walked past him to the door, grabbing her jacket on the way out. He listened for the door click as it closed and he instantly knew she was pissed at something, he just didn't know what. His being addressed by his surname was one thing that tipped him off as he threw what remained of the pen behind him, getting up and going after her.  
  
It was almost always like this now, ever since short romantic involvement with Laney, a suspect in one of their cases about half a year ago. She made him feel like it was his fault at times, and he wanted to shove a bullet back into his head at the feeling. Her voice clawed at him from the very depths of his memory, the sting of her slap permanently imprinted against his cheek.  
  
"Steven Laney was there for me at a very difficult time in my life...when my fiancee slit his wrists..."  
  
He almost caught up to her, almost called out - when a blonde man with piercing green eyes caught her arm. His footsteps halted then, automatically kept his distance without losing sight of her. "Susan Branca," he sounded sophisticated and looked the part in his long black trench coat and suit with the weird shade of blue on his tie. "I almost thought you had forgotten my little invitation to lunch yesterday."  
  
He couldn't see Susan's face, yet her voice gave way to her stressed facade. "Ah, Sanders -"  
  
"Hector, remember me?" He chuckled and she tried to match it but was horribly failing. Sanders paused, noticing her discomfort. He chose that moment to close the distance and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to propel her toward the elevator door. Creegan's brain instantly felt the pressure of his gun against his chest at the action, reminding him that he had a certain power over something. "I see you're still mourning your aunt. Come; you need a good warm cappuccino. I know just the place." Who was this man? He had never seen him before - no wait. He's new. He was a new recruit - some ego-boosting detective that had sat on Susan's opposite side at one of the earlier debriefings. He remembered how annoyed he was at the man when he ate his Corn-Nuts loudly, and he wanted to reach over Susan and gouge his eye out for being so loud. He had instantly disliked the man since that day.  
  
David watched as the guy urged her on, and he walked after them but stopped just as Susan walked into the elevator, turning and catching his eye before the heavy metal doors slid to a close. What was that she saw in his eyes? Confusion? Regret? Hurt? Her heart ached at the look on his face.  
  
If only I was allowed to love you.  
  
If only.  
  
--  
  
Next day.  
  
"Inspector Creegan?" Someone called at his door.  
  
David shook himself of his reverie, tossing a miscellaneous photograph of a recent case victim on the top pile of his desk. "Hm, yeah, what?"  
  
"There's...a Hallie Piper here to see you." The 30-something six footer looked somewhere to his right where he couldn't see. "She says she needs to speak with you. She says it's urgent." A puzzled frown creased his forehead as he rose from his chair and taking long strides to the doorway where the six footer stepped aside where Hallie stepped forward.  
  
"Hello again, Mr. Creegan," she greeted almost shyly with a small captivating smile. She looked very charming in a kelly-green skirt with black lace hem, hugging black sweater. Black penny-loafers encased her small feet. Her long dark hair was swept over her left shoulder and braided. For the first time he discovered that her eyes were a light reddish brown. He all of a sudden wondered where Susan was, then the thought escaped him as soon as Hallie came closer, the scent of Dolce & Gabbana engulfed his senses, sweeping over him like a pro surfer's choice wave. An enticing scent, meant to allure.  
  
He functioned enough to motion with his hand for her to enter his office, and he briefly remembered that Holly used the same perfume - he had bought it for her on the eve of their 3rd year anniversary, expensive as it was. He guided her into a chair and came around the desk and sat himself down. "Okay, first order of business: That would be a total of 100K for starters," She smiled and chuckled just like he'd expected her to. Then the thought of seeing her nude made his grin turn sideways. "So what's so urgent? How's the leg?" He'd almost forgotten.  
  
Hallie ran an eye over his entire office of what she could see, the glass walls, the impressive stack of work building up before him, the lack of family memorabilia residing anywhere in the vicinity. "Nothing really urgent...I feel guilty now for lying." She glanced around for the six footer.  
  
"Don't," he casually replied and she knew he meant it.  
  
She smiled. "I just really wanted to see you - you were in a hurry last time. Anyway, the leg - it's fine, my doctor took a look at it," She was almost mesmerized by his dark blue gaze. "He said you did a good job repairing me, and I'd like to thank you for that. For helping me - I really appreciated it."  
  
He leaned forward so that his elbows were propped on his desk, chin in his hands. "Yeah well, I could see that the resident denizens of this city weren't quite as hospitable, so I thought I'd take the action. Which reminds me: I've still got your dress at my apartment. I'll bring it around sometime although you might wanna get the hole fixed and bring it to the cleaners. There's a huge suspicious red stain you might wanna get checked out." These humorous lines just spouted forth out of him, and always on que she laughed, giggled, thinking him funny. As usual. What was he doing exactly? Flirting? Wouldn't Enright have a fit. More so Branca; maybe he should prepare himself for the silent treatment. One hand reached down and fingered the edge of a single piece of paper. "So did you talk with the police? Any I.D. on the perp?"  
  
"No, not yet...except they found my purse almost a block away in a trash can. Everything inside was taken out, emptied...I suppose the guy got away really disappointed." She laughed a little, feeling a little more at ease. "I don't carry that much cash on me; I've learned the hard way not to. There was only $10 in there, a tube of lipstick I never wear, a comb, some credit cards which I've already canceled - nothing too important. Plus I didn't drive that day therefore I didn't carry my license. I don't...really drive anymore. I commute on the max everyday to and from my place of employment and walk anywhere else I need to go, the bus - some method of public transportation." She seemed to be holding back something, staring at the surface of his desk, hands placed almost awkwardly on her lap. "My family was killed not too long ago in a car accident. My husband and two little boys. I was the one that survived the crash, getting away with no more than a few broken ribs, sprained ankle and a black eye, some minor bruising. Every time I got into a car, I felt like I was drowning. Something in my brain I guess."  
  
David nodded slowly. He knew all of this already - earlier he had only glanced through her file. "I know something about that. Except not what's in my brain, but something that's not." Her eyes then went to his scar again, but she didn't really feel the need to ask. A silence grew between them. She figured he would tell her whenever he wanted her to know. Whether or not he felt the need to tell her. "Danny's your only living family then? Danny Rodden?" She bit her lip. She was almost certain he would tell her then.  
  
"Yes. My aunt died about seven months ago from the same kind of cancer Danny has now." That moment with Susan flashed in his mind, about him asking her how her aunt's funeral was. Everything seemed to remind him of her now, almost to the point of being farcical in a disturbing way. "Now he's living with me - well, he was until he was moved to the hospital. I can't afford at-home care with my bookkeeper job at a small firm."  
  
Creegan sat back, propping his feet up and crossing his legs on his desk, chin in one hand. "I can barely afford tickets to co ed volleyball with my salary so I know how you feel." Then there was the silence. It lasted at least 10 seconds and he felt her eyes trailing on his scar again and he sighed slightly, regarding her with a fixed look. "I'm surprised no one has told you about me yet. I'll be damned."  
  
Hallie did a double take. "About...?"  
  
He tapped an index finger on his scar. "Nicknames are as follows: 'crazy cop,' 'loony loser,' 'cracked-up Creegan,' 'basket-case victim.'" He had to grin. "Never had the title 'King of Eros.' I've always wanted to be called that. Eh." She was still looking as though he had a chicken dancing atop his head. "I got shot in the head about...two years ago. I died for the very first time in my life." He partially fixed his attention on a loose thread on his jeans, picking at it.  
  
Hallie's brows drew together in concern. "You...You _died_...?" She emphasized the last word, the full meaning not really getting there. Creegan nodded once, managing to tear the thread and making a hole. She went on. "So that's why you're so...um." She smiled sideways, not knowing which word to describe him with exactly.  
  
"Hot? Nah, I think I got my looks around 18..." He laughed a bit, not looking at her but at the growing hole at his knee. "I only died for 10 minutes but I'd have to say that was plenty enough time." He tilted his head to the side. "I was surprised when my whole life didn't flash before me and there wasn't a 'light at the end of the tunnel,' no voice of God telling me it was my time. I didn't float away from my body and watch as they tried to revive me. It was like dreaming almost - foggy you know - and hard to breathe." He took a deep breath and finally caught her eyes. "I didn't lose my life that day, but I lost everything that held it together. What didn't kill me...made me stranger. My wife - she left me. My children, my two little girls...I left them. I sent them to someplace I can't reach to protect them from me - my job.  
  
"My ability to produce shame is nonexistent - the chunk of brain that controlled that is gone. I tell the truth a lot more often than I lie. I have the ability to look into the mindset of a criminal and know how the wheels turn, how the crank is worked, what buttons to push. That's why I'm here," He motioned around. "Organized and Serial Crime Unit. I have my own partner, my own office...I even got my own stack of stationary. Cute huh?" She carefully studied him, from the dark tousled hair to the muddy boots. To believe that such a man could have gone through death yet was still cracking jokes and living to tell. Something within her wanted to hold onto him. Forever.  
  
Never to let go.  
  
"David, I..." Hallie began but paused. He wasn't looking at her, but at the wall behind her which was glass. His focus moved until the object of his attention was revealed. It was then that his aforementioned lady partner came through his door dressed in very sophisticated navy blue suit jacket and matching slacks, high-heels. Her blonde hair was up with dirty-blonde wisps falling on each side of her face. Hallie's eyes drew together as reddish-brown collided with an almost Caribbean-blue.  
  
--


	5. Fraternization

**__**

Caveat: No claim on TE, I wish I had my own JD though. Just let me know if Creegan's too OOC, or Branca for that matter. I've only seen like...4 or 5 episodes of TE, so yeah, I immediately fell in love Thanks a lot for reading (which I think you are since you're in chapter five already). I hope there'll be a lot more TE fics to be created soon. Thanx also goes to all those who helped me with that co-ed volleyball thing...I've never heard of it, never went to a volleyball game, so please bear with me. Now onward we go!

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- Heaven's Burning **-**

by Mia A. Ai-no-Tora

****

Chapter Five: "Fraternization"

"David, I..." Susan stood at the open door, a bag of Crispy-Creme donuts slung on one arm and she was looking from Creegan to Hallie who had turned in her seat to stare at her. The moment their eyes met it felt like a knife had just turned in her gut. "Oh...I see you're busy. I'll just come back--"

"No you won't." Creegan had stood and was already halfway toward her. "Besides you'd have probably polished off all the donuts by the time you do. Shame on you Susan - I thought you were on a diet...not that you need it, you're bound to be anorexic; do you feel ok?" She sent a fierce scowl his way which he totally ignored.

He reached out for the bag but managed to brush Susan's hand with his, making the woman-detective's eyes flash toward Hallie for the second time. She stepped back once. "David, you really shouldn't keep your guest waiting--"

Creegan snapped his fingers in recollection. "Oh that's right...Susan: Hallie Piper - the woman that got mobbed?" He motioned for the women. "And Hallie, this is detective Susan Branca, my partner." Susan smiled politely during the introduction, trying to ignore the rising of the hairs on the nape of her neck as she inclined her head toward the other woman. It was then that something caught her attention. At the mention of the words _my partner_, she barely noticed a look of..._something_ - flash across Hallie's face. It was like a piece of Victoria's Secret lingerie - barely there, but it was - only a woman would know though of course she couldn't tell with David - he was something else.

Despite that, Susan walked forward. "I'm glad you're doing all right now Ms. Piper," She offered her hand as Hallie stood and shook it.

"My leg still hurts," Hallie replied curtly, a hard smile stretching her mouth as Susan abruptly let go of her firm grip. "But David took care of me at his apartment pretty good. Right David?"

Creegan's eyebrow went up only slightly. "Yeah..." _What's this weird vibe I'm feeling?_ He thought as he glanced at Branca.

Said woman shrugged and grinned naturally. "David has a knack for that. He shot a man to save me one time - then it was later on that we discover he wasn't holding a gun but an ice-cream cone!" She chuckled, utterly amused. "Oh, but the guy was still bad news. He was a serial killer who lured little girls with his ice-cream truck all across the country. Never rely on the Old-McDonald song; _trust_ me - you might die sooner than you think - I mean, not that you're a little girl or anything."

Creegan was looking at his partner, partly amused and partly confused as Hallie's social smile was waning. "That's funny. Well, I think I need to go - I was just on my way to the hospital."

"Need a ride? Want a donut?" Susan kindly offered but in the back of her mind she knew it was insulting to the woman especially when it came from her.

Hallie's expression turned snide. "No, no, that's quite all right. Thanks anyway. It was a ball meeting you."

"Likewise." said Susan, being utterly grateful for having the ability to lie.

Hallie picked up her handbag and slung her jacket over her right arm. She ambled toward the door what with her leg and all, pausing in front of Creegan and gazing up at him with an altogether sweetness that wasn't forced. "See you again? I'd really like to."

Meanwhile Susan was thinking how much her skirt reminded her of throw-up. David nonetheless got that impression throughout the whole charade as his eyes widened to look down at Hallie.

"Er...yeah. Sure."

The sweetness faded a bit. "All right, I'll be off then. " She glanced at Susan before walking out the door, a slight limp to her steps.

As soon as she was gone, Creegan instantly turned on Susan, who was at the moment about to walk out the door as well. He reached out and grabbed the bag of donuts, making her stop in her tracks with the eyes of a tiger protecting her territory. "What was that?" He asked. There was a smug mischievous curve on his mouth that she wanted to scrub off.

"What are you talking about? What was what?"

He motioned with his head toward the door. "With Hallie Piper just now. Don't lie."

Susan wanted to laugh at the interesting surname but instead answered with a derisive snort. "Lie? Why would I need to? I have absolutely no idea what you're getting at."

It was then that she knew she would regret it the next time he opened his big mouth. He leaned forward, their faces only inches apart. "You were _jealous _... weren't you?" Every word intended full accusation thrown over her like a thick coat of paint.

His eyes twinkled underneath his collected eyebrows, his Adam's apple twitching as he confidently stared her down. Susan's lips pursed defensively as she looked at him, searching her brain for an appropriate comeback. "Wh-what the _hell_ do you --"

"The _moment_ you saw her your eyes - they _flashed_ something animal, and --"

"You're joking, right?" Susan inserted, trying to sound bored. _And anyway, it wasn't MY face that flashed something animal._

"_Then_ you told her about the ice-cream perv with the Lolita-Complex," David moved along, his hands motioning hurriedly in the air. "About how I killed him because he was about to kill you just because she mentioned about my bringing her to my apartment. You instantly became defensive and I swear I could see your hackles rise." The grin transfixed on his face was bright and wide by now as he figured out what brought about the tension that clouded their earlier conversation in her office. "I get it Susan, really and I'm absolutely honored. I feel like a bubbly schoolgirl again."

Susan wanted to slap him for the nth time since their first meeting one another. If he wasn't so damn cute she would have. "You really are crazy!" She laughed, waving off the accusations with her hand. "Really, David. Jealous...ha, that's a good one. Oh poor detective, you'd like that wouldn't you..." She teased, bringing up a hand and patting his cheek and feeling his ever-apparent razor stubble beneath her hand. She caught his eye and wasn't quick enough to pull away when he reached up and closed his fingers around her own near his jaw, the tension growing serious.

"You're teasing me," he stated the obvious, his grin gone and was now serious. "Why Susan...?"

Her cheeks heated, her pulse quickening at his touch. _Oh GREAT, this is just bloody great... _This was so unlike her and she felt like kicking herself for ever touching him. She managed to keep her voice steady although deathly quiet. "Because you are a professional asshole. Because believe it or not I kid around too." She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, and her hand in his was beginning to fall asleep so she tried to take it back, only he wouldn't let go. "_David..._" She was _this close_ to losing it.

"If you were jealous, just tell me and I'll let go; we'll both let it go."

She paused, blinking up at him. "You're serious."

"Always." The corner of his mouth twitched from trying not to smile as he playfully enclosed both hands around hers just in case she tried to pull away. "Come on Susan, live a little of my world and taste the fresh martinis and rum 'n coke that are made up of honesty." He chuckled merrily at his own cleverness. She merely scowled.

"_Exactly - _I'd be lying if I said I was jealous then all you ever stood for would go down the drain," She tried to convince him with a sigh.

"Humor me," he urged again.

"This is un_believable_...!" Susan complained, trying to look behind him through the glass for someone like Enright to walk in. "Let me go! I'm not going to lie just so you can prove to yourself that you're so _disgustingly_ attractive that every woman you come in contact with clamps down and adores you."

He thought for a moment. "Disgustingly attractive..." Blinking, his eyes widened in realization as though he had just cracked the case. "That's it!"

"What?" Was all Branca managed to say.

Creegan nodded vigorously managing to look even more boyish. "_Disgustingly attractive!_ It's an oxymoron! (At that, Branca groaned out her impatience, rolled her eyes heavenward and wanted to sink into the floor.) Love those...especially one that describes me. Thank you Susan, I'll add that to my list of nicknames right alongside my own personal favorite: 'King of Eros.' I was talking about that with Hallie earlier." She hated it every time her face gave her away, and since he was holding her hand he immediately felt how tense she became at the mention of the other woman. Creegan said as much as he stared down at her in wonder. "Holy shit...you really were jealous."

Susan chose that moment to stomp on his foot as he let her go, watching as he cried out and stepped back before he was heartily booming with ridiculing laughter. "David, you seriously need to _grow-up_!" She held her head up high and marched toward the door, bag of donuts held protectively close to her.

"Hey... wait -" He snatched her forearm as he recovered from his laughter. "Why don't we go get some coffee or something? I could really use a donut right now."

"These weren't for you! I just came in here to see if you're done with that file report that was due last week!" She tugged for her arm back but once again he wouldn't let go.

"Oh really? And who _were_ they for? Sanders that conniving Spartan?" He spat out his name with a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

Her mouth shot open, brows furrowing. "And I don't see why that's any business of yours. _Conniving..._you - you don't even _know_ him, David."

"The guy is whacked."

"Like you aren't?"

"Oh, I'm sorry - that guy got shot in the head too?" He blinked away with his faux sympathy shining in his eyes. "How asinine of me to miss that bit of exclusive info. Us two should have a beer later on and trade insider stories on how his hell looked like or how long it took for the other guy to start breathing again - and I intentionally said 'hell' because you know he wouldn't exactly be the kind of guy to sprout wings no matter how much Redbull he drinks." Some part of his conscience told him to stop while he was already behind.

Susan bit her lip, partly from anger and partly from being subdued the way she was; nonetheless he knew he won that round. Now for round two: "Anyway, what I do know is that he chews with his mouth open and he always manages to leave a trail of Corn-Nuts like he was Hansel with a gun," He rolled his eyes. "And he even _smells_ like Corn-Nuts. Ranch_. _Ranch Corn-Nuts, Susan. Would you really want to go around smelling like Ranch Corn-Nuts for the rest of your life?" Susan sighed heavily, quite fed up with his prattling on. "Don't tell me he's all _simon-pure _and altogether _simpatico,_" He waggled the fingers of his free hand. "But that's not what I'm trying to get at."

Susan exhaled slowly, about ready for World War III as she ground out, "_Enlighten_ me."

__

You really shouldn't have said that. He came closer and simultaneously pulled her arm to get her to step forward, leaned down and whispered into her ear, bringing shivery goose-bumps to her porcelain skin. "_Fraternizing, are we Detective Branca...?_" _Dingdingdingdingdiiiiiing...who won that round, Susan?_

She leaned away to look up at him, mystified as he casually stared back practically _daring_ her to deny it. Wrenching out of his hold, she stated coldly, "No, _we_ most certainly aren't. _Never."_ And for the second time that week she walked out on him; this time it was in _his_ office.

--

Rivers stepped back upon entering the doorway of Creegan's office, turning away casually as Susan marched past him in a huff and not even noticing he occupied the hallway at all. An unusual smile danced across his face as he peeked in at 'Crazy Creegan,' who was at the moment banging his head against the wall in repeated intervals.

Creegan, with his head smarting, inadvertently heard the all-too familiar steady rock beat from Black Sabbath in his head as he continued his self-applied punishment.

--

****

Notes: I love that line, "Would you really want to go around smelling like Ranch Corn-Nuts for the rest of your life?" LOL! Don't get me wrong though, I love Corn-Nuts. _Anyway_, I thought 'fraternizing,' according to my mind was illegal association between colleagues in the FBI or some other profession such as. Well, I looked it up in my dictionary stating: "fraternize: to associate in a friendly way." Well, assume here that fraternization means something backhand-slap worthy for both Creegan and Branca, as it was with Mulder and Scully in the X-Files. I've got this story all mapped-out by the way unless I decide to change some minor things. This is a DC/SB fic by the way so turn away right now if you don't like that pairing - too bad! evil cackle

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Thanx to the lovely reviewers who make it happen!

Alamo Girl: Wow, thanx so much for that! That really means a great deal to me - I mean, I really tried to get Creegan's character to act the way he's supposed to, what with his silliness and not even trying to be. :D I'm glad I got you hooked. I hope you won't be disappointed.

Crimson Alessa: 'Course I'm gonna continue! Well, now anyways lol! Thanx for loving the story.

Abbie Carmichael: Thank you very much Abbie! I'm glad you love.

Self Injured: Hey, where'd your Susan ficcy go?? I was searching for it...if you took it out please don't! PLEASE continue it!! lol Anyway, YES, thank you so much about the co-ed thing! I fixed that earlier today just as soon as I got your review. I feel like kicking myself lol! I've just never heard of 'co-ed volleyball,' so yeah...you helped majorly. Thanx!

Lizabella: lol! I do know what volleyball is just not 'co-ed.' Thanx for your comment though, and that you're jumping from General hospital to Touching Evil! I hope you'll really begin to like this series (hint: Creegan's (Jeffrey Donovan) hot hot hot! haha). Thanx for reading.

Rebbeca: Ah yes, the 'co-ed' thing. HAHA! Okidoke, I think I've just fixed it. sigh I feel so dumb...but thanx so much for your comments! Twice too! Wow...lol. Thank you! I'm trying not to get the reader too attached with Hallie Piper because she's gonna be one mean villian in the upcoming chapters. Oops, did I write that?

Anyone else I forget - well, it's only because of FF.net and how slow they are I'm only kidding, I love FF.net (don't hurt me!!). See ya next chappy (this time with a case to work on).

--


	6. Male Bonding Experience

**__**

Caveat: Touching Evil - not mine - it would certainly NOT be a good idea if it were... Oh, and the category for this [Humor, Romance] is questionable in the next oncoming chapters. Let me know if I should change it. Too bad I can't have [Humor, Romance, Angst, Detective Work (lol), etc.] The meaning of the title "Heaven's Burning" will be brought out somewhere in the last chapters. You'll see.

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- Heaven's Burning -

by Mia Ai-no-Tora

****

Chapter Six: "Male Bonding Experience"

"_Grrrr...._" Creegan gritted his teeth, eyes shut as he leaned his head against the glass wall before thumping it once more for the record, fogging up the glass with each breath. Several onlookers on the other side of the glass only glanced at him, saw who it was and went about their business as though it were just another casual Friday at work. Having David Creegan working there for more than a year could do that to a co-worker.

Agent Rivers came in and looked him over, what with his state of disarray. "Creegan."

"_What._" He stayed right where he was.

"About the 'Old-Maid' case - I'd like to discuss it with you in the War-Room." Thinking afterward he added just for a sinker, "Oh yeah, there's chips and dip in there too."

Hearing his footsteps going out the door, David only straightened to look at his reflection in the glass. He all of a sudden wanted to see what Susan saw every time she looked at him. Maybe there was something that bothered her and maybe, just maybe he could do something.

Bringing a hand up to rub his aching forehead, he replayed his own words in his mind. He had overdone it, that much he knew - he had snapped at the thought of Sanders ever getting the heart of Susan and for the first time he realized how overprotective he was being. The malevolence in his voice as he spoke of all the dents and cracks he found on the guy. He couldn't think of much; he tried to play out the Corn-Nuts issue as long as he could. Then her words echoed in his mind as they so often did after each argument. _No, _we_ most certainly aren't. Never._

Never.

"Shit." He had just stuck his foot into the preverbal matter and inevitably rubbed it in his face like so much face cream.

"Hey, you coming or what?" Rivers waited impatiently at his doorway, tapping his foot as though he were waiting for a little boy to obey.

"Coming, postmaster general." Creegan grunted, hauling his carcass after his temp partner.

He walked as though he were fatigued, having been wasting energy insulting Sanders' ass and trying to entertain Susie-Homemaker in his office what with the few precious hours of sleep he managed to snag. He walked into the empty War-Room while the projector illuminated an image onto a screen on the far wall of the face of a dead woman case victim.

They reached the end of the long table to where a stack of files awaited them along with the promised chips and dip, and as Creegan leaned against the back of one chair with the heels of his hands he questioned Rivers, "So we're the only ones on this case or what?" Indicating the emptiness of the room.

"Well, technically yes," He slid an open file toward him. "I'm just reviewing the basics here - and anyway we could work on this ourselves. Enright gave us small fish to fry this time since he gave Branca the leeway to mourn her aunt." He opened a bag of extra-cheesy Doritos, reaching inside and grabbing only one chip at a time. "That file there is one head suspect involved in the death of Athena Hausen. He's an auto mechanic and an ex-boyfriend of hers - also wears a battery charge on his records."

They were currently investigating the suspicious murder of two people within the same area, being killed in the same fashion: vehicle brake failure. Both Athena Hausen and the another victim named Vallerie Snider were both housemaids/home caretakers. Their employers were away at the time of their deaths and therefore weren't warranted as suspects in the case; they were to venture out and search on their own with very little to follow up on.

Creegan examined the mug shot of a beefy man staring up at him from the file and his mind began to shift gears; the analysis on the argument with Susan would have to wait. "Mechanic, eh? So you think that since he's got the smarts with the sparkplugs, he might've been the one that jimmied with her brakes that caused her car and a Mack truck to make love in the middle of the freeway?"

Rivers shrugged. "Why not? Anything is possible."

He felt like his ears were ringing. Groaning and ultimately tired, Creegan sat himself down and laid his head against the cool surface of the table. "Tell me something I haven't heard before and I'll give you what's in my wallet."

Throwing another chip in his mouth, Rivers crossed his arms. "Really."

David didn't look up at him but muttered, "Greedy bastard aren't you? Yes, really." He could practically hear the wheels grinding inside the agent's head and there was a stillness that lasted approximately 14.5 seconds.

"Ok, how's this: _Boku wa atsugariya de kara ne._" (I feel the heat you see.)

Creegan peeled his face from the table with his eyes still closed, face directed toward the man on the opposite side of the table as he analyzed the phrase in his mind, eyebrows drawing together. "Mm...nope, heard it."

Rivers turned a dubious blue eye on him as he laid his head back down. "_What?_ How could you have heard that before? It's Japanese for Christ's sake."

Creegan shrugged. "I had a crush on a Japanese neighbor where I grew up in Boston. Oh, and your accent sucks ass."

Rivers didn't argue against what he already knew. Then he paused and turned directly toward Creegan and he began to see him in a slightly altered light. Even with his quirks, this guy wasn't one to be underestimated; he had compassion unlike any other man he had met before but he wasn't about to admit that any time soon. A particular thought crossed his mind and he blurted, "You like Branca. Don't you?"

Creegan slowly opened his eyes from where he was, thinking, hopelessly thinking and straining as he was to answer almost instantly, he managed to answer the question without lying but not telling the whole truth entirely - and it almost felt as painful as severing nerves. "Yeah sure, I like Branca. You make it sound like it's something else though...but yeah. Never heard that. No one ever really stepped up to the plate to ask that one. Oh by the way, I'm broke unless you want some laundry lint and my license, credit cards..." The other detective hid a smile at the unanswered question. He didn't need an answer, he already knew. He had already known for quite some time even if Creegan himself did not.

"She never really denied it you know - about being jealous I mean," Rivers pointed out, popping another chip in his mouth, chewing then swallowed. Perhaps he wanted to make Creegan feel better. "I was there from beginning to end, ever since Rodriguez brought the chick inside. I think the entire collective of men here at OSC noticed the moment she walked in."

__

So that's the six-footer's name. Creegan sat back, felt around his entire mouth with his tongue as he examined his cuticles and the faded blue ink on the back of his hand. "She's looks good naked and all, but she isn't really my type."

Rivers then chose that moment to choke on the little shards of Dorito in his mouth and Creegan looked over at him in slight curiosity. "_Gah..._ Wh-What the hell?? You mean you..._you --_" He moved his hands around in a frenzy, indicating a certain meaning.

All Creegan did was frown. "_I_...what? What do you...?" He was shaking his head, uncomprehending or perhaps just trying to get him to say it out loud, annoying Rivers all the more.

"_You _know..."

"I'm a bit dense. Clarify it for me."

The opposite detective exhaled. "You didn't screw the woman, did you?"

David looked him in the eye, and quite innocently he answered, "No, I only changed her clothes; it was raining that night." He clicked his tongue. "Jeezus Rivers - don't go apeshit on me again."

Rivers' shoulders softened in relief. "Well, I'd thought you would have done a rerun of that Bruskie-woman."

"Ukrainian." There was a dish of shelled-peanuts on the table and he practically had to lay across on his belly to be able to reach them.

"Whatever. I'm just surprised is all. Branca was pretty ticked off about you not immediately letting the police in on it."

Creegan shook his head, cracking one nut in his mouth before he lost interest and sliding the dish away - too quickly and spilling it. The little peanuts fell in a small fan formation, the crystallic dish rolling before tipping back and thudding, seconds ticked as it stopped much like a dime being spun on its edge. "I don't see why she has any reason to be so snippety about it. She's got Sanders to warm her nights." Now he was shaking his head out of disgust, taking one nut and propping it up on its side so he could see how far he could flick it.

"Sanders? Hector Sanders?" Rivers sounded incredulous.

"Yes, yes, Colonel Corn-Nuts himself, that damn, sleazy proletariat." He definitely wasn't keeping score on how many names he was calling him. "He's got about the same amount of charms as a convicted balding homosexual tubby on death row." He reached up with both hands and forcefully ruffed-up his already-tousled black hair to relieve some stress - barely looking any different afterward (not to mention saucy ).

Rivers didn't deny it and let him blow off some steam for the obvious unspoken reasons. A smile creeped up on his lips. "So who's the jealous one now?" Something flew at him and struck his left temple. He looked from Creegan to the peanut at his feet that he'd just assailed him with then gave him a look that said, _Okay, okay, untouchable topic, understood._

"Anyway," David went on. "Now I've got her pissed off at me for defiling the bastard - I was only pointing out the obvious. What can I say? 'Sorry Susan, I don't like men who have bad masticating habits'? I'd sooner get shot in the head again."

Rivers laughed, laughed for what felt like the first time in any conversation with David Creegan. He only vaguely realized that this was one of their first real conversation without each exchanging blistering glares or insults aimed toward each other - suddenly he couldn't think of why Bernal thought this guy to be so useless at times. "You're right though; the guy does have shit for brains."

That piqued David's curiosity. "Oh ho. What do you have on our man Sanders?"

His colleague chuckled, trying to fight full-on laughter. "Man, you haven't heard? The guy went into the bathroom wondering why there wasn't any men's toilets, and Shirleen - you know Shirleen Walden? She got out of her stall and told him it was because he was in the little girls' room." He barely finished the story before he lost composure.

Creegan blinked for a few seconds, drinking it all in before he joined Rivers in the laughter. After the hype, it still didn't repair the damage he'd done with Susan. "Damn, if only you'd told me that sooner - I could've warned Branca as to what planet she was crash-landing on." Somehow that bit took a turn for the worse in his innuendo-stained mind and he cringed.

"I'll add in my piece about Sanders too, if you want."

David didn't acknowledged the gesture but sighed. "Watch; she's gonna go home with a gallon of some cheap ice-cream, sit herself on the couch with some cotton throw and wrap herself up in front of the T.V. and turn it to some Lifetime movie - or better yet to that Diane Lane flick _Unfaithful,_" He said the title with a sexy faux woman's voice, batting his eyes and pouting his lips in a kissy-poo fashion.

Rivers studied him closely. "Hey ... how would you know anything about that movie? Seen it yourself I presume?"

Perhaps Rivers meant to embarrass him but he had forgotten one minor detail ... that this man was beyond embarrassment. "Why not? But I think Richard Gere's gradually regressing...I liked _Pretty Woman _better - at least it had hookers. My ex-wife chose _Unfaithful_ though and I think she suggested it out of a lesson for me." He didn't bother to notice Rivers shaking his head, almost if not taking on the embarrassment for Creegan himself. David all of a sudden popped a question, "You definitely liked the bathroom stall scene though, didn't you?"

"Yeah, it --" Rivers stopped short and glared at him, getting caught in his own web of embarrassment as Creegan laughed his ass off. "Bastard..."

"I know my father unfortunately." Somehow he felt his appetite return after all the talk on Sanders - ironic, really. He motioned for the bag of Doritos and Rivers reluctantly handed them over. He shoved a handful into his mouth and asked, "So whash ja latesh shon da 'Ord-Maz' caysh?" He only received a muddled look in return. He chewed some more then swallowed. "I said: What's the latest on the 'Old-Maid' case?"

Rivers snatched the bag of chips back. "Thought you were never going to ask. We've tried to bring in Hausen's ex-boyfriend slash mechanic in for questioning, but he's nowhere to be found."

--

****

Notes: Should've been Bernal instead of Rivers huh? I dunno. I hope no one was getting confused about the "Old-Maid" case they're working on. Just ask for questions you may have about it if something's amiss within your wee lil head. It involves Hallie Piper - but that's to come. Oh btw, here's a trivia question for avid TE fans: _Who was the one that shot Steven Laney and what episode was that? _LOL Sorry EASY stuff, bored you see. I thought the chappy was already long enough. Tell me if I'm wrong. BTW it's going to be until Monday or so until I can get the next chapter out - I'm in the process of moving. But thank you so much for the reviews and I'll continue to put out as long as you guys keep asking.

****

Thanx goes to:

SVUBound0121: Thank you for reading it, I will try to keep going with the pace I have now. :) I like Law and Order as well, I just haven't really felt the inspiration to write a fic on it...maybe someday.

Alamo Girl: Oh wow, I'm so glad I got the point across about the romantic/sexual tension without it being too full of cheese and having them hit the sack only 5 chapters into the story - I mean, I might not even have them "connect" at that level in this story...probably in some sequel because it feels like I'm hurrying the original TE plotline, and that's just something I don't want to ruin. Ah, but it is a TE _fic. _Maybe. And you got the unresolved angst! Yay! party Kudos to YOU.


	7. Furious Angel

**_Caveat:_** Oh yes, I do own Touching Evil - and I've got David Creegan stashed away in the dark abyss of my basement...Well, if I had a basement. OK, my garage then. :D NO I am not kidding. OK, maybe just a little, hehe. I know I didn't get it out by Monday, but hey - moving was harder than it seemed. First day I get settled and I lose my FCKING wallet. Sorry for the outburst...but writing this is the only way I can forget my troubles even for just a chapter. Saw Entropy - eyes have widened just a little more. I sincerely hope you enjoy. WARNING: LONG 

**- Heaven's Burning -**

****By Mia aka Ai-no-Tora 

**Chapter Seven: **"Furious Angel" 

Driving home, Susan could hear Hank's lecture echoing through her ears but otherwise the car ride was silent. __

__

_"I already told you Susan, it was too early. I understand if you need a few days more - I just don't want you bringing the axe down too soon...we all have our limits."_ She had looked into his eyes, her captain and friend, but she saw something she didn't want, didn't need, didn't care for. Pity. Halfhearted sympathy. Why couldn't things stay professional in a professional environment? She closed her eyes and wished it away. 

_"It's because I'm a woman, isn't it? Well, I'll tell you something 'Chief',"_ She felt the knife in her gut give another 180 degree turn. When she'd seen him flinch was when the bowstring broke without her consent, the arrow flying haphazardly. _"I may be a woman, but I can sure as hell work harder than most of your recruits here and I'm not about to go home and feel sorry for myself."_

__

__She wanted to bang her head against a wall. Perhaps if she told him it really was because of her aunt's death that she said such careless words, maybe he would become lenient and there they would go again with the pity. She'd rather take the pity than lose her job though. Her hand struck the steering-wheel in frustration, then it came up to cover her mouth. _Damn you, David Creegan. I lost my head because of you. All because of you. Your fault...your fault...damn you, Creegan! _She certainly couldn't tell Enright it was because of him, now could she. 

__

__Staring up at the red light glaring down at her as she applied pressure to her brakes, her eyes traveled down to her cell-phone awaiting her in the passenger seat. In normal circumstances, she would have called David. A light shined down in some particular part of her heart in realization. She would have called David for someone to talk to? 

However, this particular problem partially concerned him. "Who the hell am I kidding," Branca said out loud, stepping on the gas as her car pulled forward as the light turned green, simultaneously reaching for her mobile. "This concerns him the most." 

-- 

She had met Alexandria Colbin at the Produce aisle at the grocery store on a Friday evening. Shopping at the end of a busy working week then looking for ripe bananas could really take a considerable amount of energy. She remembered she had dropped the bananas in her hand, and without dusting them off she put them back and got another set of five, all within slick movements. Alex was over by the tomatoes, watching intently before commenting with a strong British accent that dust didn't suit bananas as they should. Susan had looked beyond mortified before Alex had started laughing, walking over and telling her she wasn't the first one to do such an act of discretion. 

It was the start of a beautiful friendship - or so some would have it. 

Alex knocked on the big red door of her apartment at precisely 7:30 P.M. Susan let the tall, cheeky brunette in, eyeing the big tub of Cosmopolitan ice-cream in her arms and a bag of chocolate. "And what do you suppose those are for?" Meaning the goodies as Alex set them on the kitchen counter. 

"Guilt-trip right? Or perhaps love unrequited - no need to tell me dear, I can read you like a dripping rag hot off the press." She knew just where everything was and brought out bowls and necessary utensils. "You're somewhat cryptic...yet what's obvious is that you need some companionship. C'mon - I won't be made to pillage - move along." She urged her with a bowl and spoon, and for once Susan let herself giggle - truly just _giggle_, something she couldn't remember doing often. 

-- 

"Maybe he really didn't have the balls to go after you because he thought you needed to cool off or something." 

They sat on the couch but unlike Creegan's premonition, no Lifetime movie was on, no Diane Lane shagging Olivier Martinez to be had. The dishes only had slight traces of ice-cream. Although there was the cotton throw. 

"Well you're right about the lack of balls." Susan pressed the heels of her hands into her tightly shut eyes. "And probably the only reason he would go after me is to get the donuts. I mean trust me Alex, he is totally --" 

"Hot? Scrumptious? No, no, scratch that: indelibly delectable." Alex's gray eyes rolled toward the back of her head as she worked her mouth around a mound of French chocolate. She had seen the infamous David Creegan once before by way of Susan. "Not to mention deliciously single." She dwelled a little on that detail then looked toward her friend. "Say, Suze...you wouldn't mind if I were to --" 

"No, Alex," Branca muttered quietly.

"That's great! What's his number?" The Brit woman reached for her cell phone. 

"I meant _no_ when I said no." The detective clarified once more, hiding her face behind a pillow she began to hug. Alex stopped and looked more closely at her best friend - or at least tried to. 

"You're in lo. . ." Alex trailed off in an inaudible whisper. 

Susan raised her head. "Hm? What was that?" 

Alex quickly shook her head, turning away to hide her smile. "I just said you're tired and you should turn in early." She grabbed another Ferrero Rocher and as she tore off the gold wrapping, she was waiting for Susan to say something. 

"Alex..." 

"Yeah hun." She popped the little nutty chocolate ball into her mouth. 

"There's this woman..." 

Alex nearly choked on the morsel but quickly recovered. "_Ahem_ Sorry...go ahead?" 

Susan sat up, her eyes gazing off into space. "There's this woman that I think likes David." She reached up and scratched her forehead in thought. "Her name is Hallie Piper. He rescued her one night at the park after she got wounded and brought her to his apartment, and she spent a night...no, two nights. I actually met her today." 

Glad she didn't get the wrong impression as to Susan's sexual preference, she tilted her head. "A bitch was she? Whore with too long of nails, stinking of cigarette smoke and cheap make-up?" Susan gave her a look. "Haha, sorry...Um, how was she? You didn't catch them in a compromising situation did you?" 

_God forbid. _Susan wanted to laugh, shaking her head as she recapped on what had happened earlier. Once she finished she felt an almost demonic urge to put as many of those little chocolates in her mouth until she was just one big butter ball. She cursed David once again at such a thought that was so unlike her, yet so like him. 

"Susan . . ." Seeing her eyes, Alex handed her a chocolate. "That David sounds like such a funny guy." Susan rolled her eyes. "Anyway, maybe it's because he's jealous too." 

"_Yeah._ Okay," Susan muttered sarcastically. _And I would eat Bernal's tie if that were true._

"I'm serious. Within the time I've known you, I've noticed you need to open yourself up more. I think that you should see which one of them you like better - David or Hector." 

"And how do you suppose I'm going to determine that?" 

"I thought it would have been obvious by now." She swore she saw Alex's green eye twinkle. "Date Hector - see how he operates. If indeed he really smells like Corn-Nuts in bed." She got a chocolate-ball on the cheek for that and a glare. (Perhaps David and Susan have been working together for too long...) Alex laughed. "Goodness Susan, when's the last time you shagged some bloke you didn't have any involvement with except work?" 

An image of her past fiancee flashed before her eyes then eased onto David, gray-blue grasping onto her innards. Her voice was quiet, almost sad. "Too long, Alex. Too long." 

Her Brit friend reached over and patted her shoulder, a soft smile gracing her lips. "So why wait any longer? Grab the train before it leaves you behind." 

-- 

_Monday._

Her car pulled up in front of the OSC department that morning, the early-morning mist still hovering in the air. She got out, closed the door and armed it. Walking toward the front of the building with the forestry-like scene before her, she only glanced toward the nearby intersection only for a second and there she was. 

A dark-haired girl that looked remarkably like Dora - the girl she had adopted from Ukraine as part of her assignment, was standing across the street wearing a starch-white long-sleeved dress that came to her knees. The girl looked straight at Branca, almost as though she were reading everything behind the scenes and knew exactly what it was that hid her innermost thoughts and feelings and weaknesses without the lies. Susan stopped, eyes watering, chest tightening. 

_Should've done something but I've done it enough..._

Susan's lips trembled in unspoken pain, one leg going in front of the other. _Dora._

A truck passed by, blocking her view of the young girl - but as soon as the truck had gone so were the dark-brown eyes that exposed everything that she was. 

-- 

Creegan didn't take his eyes away from his partner as he sat there in his car, contemplating, measuring the exact emotion that belied Susan at the very moment and not quite succeeding. The look in her beautiful eyes squeezed the life essence of his heart and hurled it against a brick wall. As he watched her watch the little girl across the street, a thought he'd previously had about the woman agent grappled his mind and held onto it firmly. Without so many words, that moment had just revealed what little he knew of Branca's past and if he couldn't get it out of her, he sure as hell wouldn't let Sanders own such precious information if it killed him. 

-- 

A disgruntled Bernal carefully opened the door to Branca's office, and upon seeing her he walked toward her desk and tossed a file right over the one she was looking at. She met his eyes through her glasses and frowned. "That's for Creegan - make sure he gets it. It's for the case he and Rivers are working on," He absently ran a hand over his shiny hairless scalp. "I would be working with them on it but I know it won't be long for the guy to figure it out and everybody'd be able to go home." He had that matter-of-fact tone, almost remorseful. 

Susan sighed and sat back, taking off her glasses. "'The guy,' huh? Chas - you don't mind do you?" He shook his head, lips pursed, eyebrow raised. "I seriously think you should get over it by now - it's been too long. I mean two years is too damn long to be holding a grudge over a promotion that just wasn't in your prime." She caught her tongue. What was she doing? Defending Creegan? Well, he was her partner after all no matter how much he was beginning to annoy her. And of course that other little detail... 

"You know Susan, you should watch out," Bernal absent-mindedly reached up and touched the wilting lilies in her vase, studying the frailty of the white petals. She was astounded at herself for not throwing them out yet. "I don't need to tell you twice that getting too involved can be painful." The words registered like a stab wound. She didn't say anything - she didn't need to. She couldn't have if she wanted to in the first place. He dropped his hand and flashed her a smile. "Well I'll see you around - take care, Susan." And with that he walked out and was gone. 

Susan paled. Perhaps he was talking about Laney. But who could he possibly be referring to now...? Her thoughts sharpened like the edge of a perilous blade. She knew it was a bad idea - she should've been more persistent in getting issued another partner two years before. 

"Susan...?" 

She slammed her hand down on her desk. "_What_ is it _now_ --" It wasn't Bernal, nor was it Creegan or Enright or Rivers - but Hector Sanders. Her cheeks colored. "Oh God, I'm so sorry ..." _Corn-Nuts. Ranch. Ranch Corn-Nuts, Susan..._

Agent Sanders moved forward as he tucked away a bag of Corn-Nuts in his jacket pocket, a wary smile plastered on his creamy face - this time around he had an orange ice-cream colored necktie with a black dress shirt. This guy needed someone to tell him he could get shot somewhere. "No, _I'm_ sorry. Is this a bad time?" He came around her desk and laid a hand on the file she was perusing. His smile meant to distract like there was something else going on behind the scenes she didn't know about. 

"No, no, it's not a bad time," She stammered, quickly standing up and trying to smile. "Just a lot of work heaped up on me you know - sometimes it makes me think about chicken-sexing for a career." Sanders' eyes widened. "You know? Checking chickens to see if they're male or female." She could never explain how stupid she was feeling at the moment. 

His hand went out toward her and she flinched slightly as he brushed a lock of blonde hair from her cheek. It was at the same time that she caught Creegan's eye through the glass wall outside her office. "You need more time, Susan. It's too soon; believe me, I know. Women in the workplace are the emotional bearings - sometimes they have more needs than men do, and I think what you need is more time." 

She practically heard Enright talking in her ear. She almost spat back a reply about being a professional and that she knew better to have personal problems separate from her work - but her throat stalled. If she were to do it, it would only prove how right Creegan was. David himself never told her it was 'too early' or that she 'needed more time.' Though right now she just hated being proved how utterly wrong she was and how right he was about how shallow this Sanders character could be. 

She glanced at Creegan again - _damn these glass walls_ - he was watching intently as he stood there even as others went around him. This was it - her move. Checkmate. "You're right, Hector. You're absolutely right," She chuckled lightly, shaking her head meanwhile her insides were falling apart at the seams. "Time. That's what I need." 

"I'm glad you agree." He smiled, walked forward and engulfed her in a swallowing hug leaving her numb. She saw something unspeakable and glaring in David's eyes, smoldering and angry - nothing. He fled and the Susan within that held everything she felt for him clawed and screamed at the boundaries in which she dared not cross. 

_The more you love them, the more you have to pretend they don't exist._

__

An unbidden sob escaped her throat and, thinking it was because of her recent loss (when in truth she had just lost something or someone), Sanders hugged her even tighter and shushed her quiet in comfort. 

-- 

Her heels struck the floor of the building in a steady rhythm as she tried to keep her eyes downward. She neared the elevator and waited as others got out before she got in, pressing a button and waiting. The doors almost slid to a close when a hand stopped it - and Creegan's face along with his lean body appeared and stood next to her. She swore her heart stopped, the blood halting and she felt dizzy as she swallowed the feeling away. She prayed - in all her Catholic righteousness she prayed for someone else to walk in; let the plate of Danish be damned. 

She was left unanswered and she seemed to wallow in the stale air of the elevator. 

Doors closed; they were alone. He was looking right at her, his whole body turned toward her. He was waiting for something, she could feel it, literally feel his eyes touching her skin. The sensation left her besotted and angry at herself. She finally gave in, thrusting a file toward him. "From Bernal with love," she muttered before facing forward again. 

He slowly took it, lips parted in question as he confirmed what was in the file. "Thank you, Susan." 

The knife gave yet another heart-wrenching twist. "Mm." 

She didn't expect it but when he did do it was when she realized she never really should expect anything from him anymore - she was talking about one of the world's unpredictable men here. He punched the button and the elevator stopped - and immediately she set panicked eyes on him. She couldn't be within two feet of him for this long. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't. "What're you doing Creegan? I've got someplace to be --" 

His curled hand came out of nowhere and slammed the metal wall to her left, making her stand upright in a jolt. The blue in his eyes became more apparent as they charged physical electricity, indirectly heightening his handsome features and she damned him for it. "Look, I'm sorry that I'm not worth your time lately," He was very nearly shouting. "I guess I forgot my Corn-Nutty cologne back at home." It felt like a ball of yarn falling down a set of stairs, unwinding, coming to a point of no return. 

"Would you just _stay out of it?_ It's my business - and what's mine is mine alone." 

"If you haven't noticed, your whole office is all made out of fucking _glass_." He swallowed and closed his eyes at the memory until he opened them again. "It wasn't only me that saw you getting your freak on with that shit-for-sure agent - but hey, your business right?" 

That did it. "Don't _push_ it, Creegan." 

He stepped closer as she simultaneously stepped back and they repeated the same process until she hit the wall behind her. "Push what? Push Colonel Sanders on you? Wouldn't need to Susan - you wouldn't need my help while you're doing the pushing and pulling in the relationship as far as I could see from earlier _--_" 

She slapped him. Slapped him with all the force of her right hand - the same hand that touched him those few days ago. _Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Susan._ The tears came like invaders from another world, swarming until there was no dry space left on her face. The first time she had slapped him, she unconsciously promised never to do it again unless it were for a very good reason - somehow, this time didn't seem right. 

_No. Please. Let's rewind now now now now . . ._

__

His face, oh goddammit his face was the very epitome of darkness that threatened to grasp onto you until the end of forever. His eyes stared down at her with as much gentleness as she could ever imagine, his lips swollen, unmoving. He looked at her as though she were the one, the only one that could make him feel all right despite what she had now done. 

_A reason for all that I do_

_And the reason is you_

__

__She looked grief-stricken as he studied her, this close yet being light-years away in parallel universes. Under the white of the elevator light, he saw it for the second time. He found the perfect adjective and noun that suited her perfectly. __

__

_You're my furious angel._

__

__He didn't even raise a hand to cradle his reddening cheek. It wasn't like last time - he merely shrugged it off. The reason behind the slap was what held the pain. A hand reached up and he touched her, thumb smearing a tear on her cheek. She closed her eyes and she wished she could, for the all the bloody romance songs and the candles and the wet bed-sheets from passionate lovemaking to the rivers of heartache in the world . . . that she could love him. That he could love her. He nodded all of a sudden, gave her a sad smile and stepped back, punching the button for the elevator to resume. Each move he made broke her inside. "I get it. I get it Susan. And I'm absolutely . . . I absolutely understand. I feel like a dickhead too, but I think that'll pass." He met her eyes before the doors opened and he grinned one of those painful grins that warranted a sick feeling in her stomach. "I've got nothing now. I hope he's good to you - let me know if he isn't and I'll beat the living Corn-Nuts outta him. Just make sure he goes into the Men's bathroom. See ya." 

"David --" Her voice was strangled in her mouth: too late. A flock of people went in front of her and crowded around in the elevator making her feel like jam compressed in a jar. Her tearstained face issued only a couple concerned glances but otherwise everything else was filled in with cold, merciless air-conditioned air. 

_"I've got nothing now."_

__

__She bit her tongue to remain silent. _Can't you see that all I have is you?_

-- 

**Notes:** I had to! I'm sorry, lol. This was the major angsty chapter - I hope it wasn't, well, stupid. Oh yeah, one minor correction: It's been 5 years to date since Creegan got shot in the head. He met Branca after 3 years of his gunshot, now in my fic they've been working for 2 years - so it makes it 5 years since his frontal-lobe injury. whew OK, stay tuned for the next chappy - Hallie does some nasty stuff - the case gets worked on and practically solved - and er...Branca gets endangered. I might have to split it into two chapters just to warn you! LOL oh yeah Entropy. CreeganBranca looks there, whew wtf man! Hehe I say don't ship them off too soon - it's too early!! At least like, 2 more seasons or something. I visit the TouchingEvilFans.com and the board they have there - so if you're ever there look me up! I'm "EvilToucher" haha how appropriate eh? 

**Thanx SO MUCH to the wonderful reviewers:**

newsieskane: Hey Rebbeca! I'm so glad you're still reading it Yup, Hallie's going to be bad. Better that way, I say. I hope you like this chapter too! 

NBLkolt: I adore your review. Thank you very much. 

Mrs. Rhett Butler: I know seriously, I like male friendship haha! Rivers and Creegan look like they could be such good friends. Bad news for Rivers' character though....but hey I'm not going to spoil anything! (I'm talking about the original TE plot, not mine). I love Rivers, and Bernal too. They're such funny guys! Lol Oh yes, Susan is mighty jealous - but Creegan takes the trophy here, don't you think? 

Self Injured: Haha the Victoria's Secret line . . . It amazes me that I actually came up with that. Perhaps someone else came up with it, I just didn't know. Oh yes, I know now how to get to your story! I hope you continue too and soon. It's so sad - but I love sad stories. Moving's an ASS - I agree completely. Stupid me and losing my wallet - me and my A.D.D. kicks self eh. What can ya do but learn the hard way?? 

Alamo Girl: Yes, so like Creegan to be honest but not really - I think. Haha like when he said, "Of course - _I_ would never read another colleague's file." Now that's just being Mr. Sarcastic. I hope I got the sexual tension down - there'll be more, I _promise_ you. It's gonna be intense. 

Ginger: The amount of TE fics are escalating, believe me. Some are so hilarious - others have Branca and Creegan already shipped out on the loveboat with a couple kids in tow! It's hilarious I tell you! LOL Eh, I shouldn't say anything, I might find myself doing the same thing. 

Elorapid: Aw, thanx a lot hun! hug Those were some sugary comments, I'm so honored! LOL I hope to GOD I won't disappoint you - so maybe you should hold your tongue. Watch out - you might regret it later! Haha I sure hope not. 

--> --> 


	8. Don't Disappear

**_Caveat: _**Don't own Touching Evil, or Creegan or Branca or Rivers or Bernal or Enright...yeah, you understand. I'm getting to write more often now even tho I'm in the process of looking for a job - most jobs that I want they won't hire people under 18 which is pretty annoying. I'm typing this up at my sister's workplace and I have my own separate room with the glass walls just like at the OSC Headquarters, lol - OH and the light comes on instantly when I enter the room. Pretty schnazy. OK sorry, hope you enjoy this chappy! This is the first part - so the part where Branca gets endangered hasn't come up yet but building to it. 

**- Heaven's Burning -**

****By Mia aka Ai-no-Tora 

**Chapter Eight: **"Don't Disappear" 

_The Saturday before Monday._

__

The soft _beep-beep-beep_ of the heart-monitor was what woke Hallie up from her tremulous sleep. She struggled to wipe away the grogginess of sleep from her eyes by blinking and rubbing them, and she could feel the imprint of her sweater-sleeve on her cheek from leaning her face against her arm. Her eyes looked for the small boy in the bed who was sound asleep and it would have been normal, everything would have been normal if he weren't so pale and looking for all the world like he was ready for internal sleep. 

She closed her eyes only for a moment but it was enough time for her to remember snippets of the dream she had; David was there, and he was confiding in her and didn't resist the offer of her open arms. They were in his office and then _that woman_ came in, interrupting everything. She had seen red and nothing but red within her field of vision and she was like a deadly cobra ready for a strike before everything vanished. She was in someone's car - it was auspiciously dark and she felt lips covering hers, a hand trailing up her skirt, another hand invading her blouse. 

Shaking her head, she buried her face in her hands where she sat in the chair near Danny's bed. What were these feelings trapped inside her head? She didn't need a car - she was already drowning in her self, her soul suffocating. She couldn't explain her behavior toward the woman called Branca if asked; even she couldn't understand it herself. She had no right to feel the way she did, although that didn't stop the feeling one way or another. 

All she saw was David Creegan and instantly it was like being injected with some sort of calming drug. Sucking in a deep breath, she ran a hand through her hair and instantly winced as she felt a bump somewhere on the back of her head, aching and sore. Gently prodding it with her fingers, her eyes darkened in puzzlement. 

Where did it come from? 

Where did she go after she left David's office? 

Why was she having to ask herself these questions more and more often? 

Taking one last glance at her cousin in the hospital bed and bidding him farewell with a kiss on his forehead, she exited quietly and it was as though she had never been there. 

-- 

_Monday evening._

"56 . . . Bodies in the morgue . . . 56 autopsies _toooooo_ [_burp_] . . . Take one out, bury the clout . . . 55 bodies left in the morgue. . ." Creegan threw another cheap bottle of beer behind him, hitting his apartment wall since he was spread out on his bed, leaning heavily on the headrest. The world turned and faded and focused - not quite in that order but all of the above occurred within the past hour. It was great getting drunk after work - the usual: getting a beer - or a couple of six-packs, singing drinking songs, trying to walk a straight line, expelling the bile that churned threateningly somewhere within the pits of one's self, hating your job and what it does to you . . . But it wasn't that great going it alone. 

His red-rimmed eyes shot toward the pictures of his ex-wife and girls on his night-stand. Rivers took the liberty to drop off yet another 'care-package' censored by the WPP of pictures telling of what can never be his again. He had to thank Rivers - that guy was a good guy. He even had his own share of family troubles with his good-for-nothing-yet-family-nonetheless brother who died about a year before from an OD in some godforsaken park somewhere in SF. 

Though this time he didn't care, what with his drunken state, feeling sorry for himself was just about all he could do. _Self-loathing really is the shit, ain't it? _How utterly ironic. 

With astonishing reflexes, he moved and flipped over the pictures on the table as though that would help somehow with what he was feeling: their eyes, perhaps if he drank enough and swore off the world enough that those pictures could somehow make them see just how pathetic he was being from wherever they may be. He didn't want that - nobody ever wanted an elusive off-his-rocker drunk for a father. 

He closed his eyes and groaned, a song suddenly creeping out of the deep grave dug within his soul, his voice strained and strangled, scratchy, deep; mournful. "_All . . . By mysee-eelf . . . Don't wanna be . . . Allll by myseeee-eelf . . ._" He didn't care how ridiculous he was being; there was no shame left in his body. Even if there was there would be no one to care if he was acting shameful or not. Nothing and nobody, not even Susan. 

He swore heatedly at the way they'd left things with one another in the elevator. He bit his lip until it bled at the scene he'd fled from, of the alien that embraced something which he thought belonged to him, even if he had no right. For the first time in a long time had he seen real tears falling from her face and it was just as wrong as water falling towards the sky. Like a small halo of light had beamed down, descended from the heavens and called for their angel back, she cried for a reason still incomprehensible to him. Why had she cried? Because she struck him when all the right was held within her aching hand? Because of the way he was behaving and she really did want to be with Sanders? Or . . .what? Each tear hurt like he had swallowed glass - every breath tearing, bleeding. How he wanted to kiss her so badly it left him numb as he strode away - no looking over his shoulder for any recompense. 

More than a year ago he could remember how he had lost his temper after he learned about her and Laney. He even thought Rivers was on something when he commented the density and heat in the air between Journalism-boy and Agent Branca. Denial was the main grip he relied on and in the end he went over the edge - but this time it was different. Altogether different yet too familiar. 

This time he felt like the ship sailed away without him. 

"Sonofa_bitch._" He hissed at himself, banging the back of his head on the headrest over and over. "No good . . . No good now . . . Ofa_bitch . . ._" Suddenly he bolted upright, his equilibrium swaying back in forth as though on dangerous waves and he felt the alcohol and peanuts he shelled coming back up to haunt him. He swallowed long and hard, before dragging himself to the cell-phone he threw on the recliner. Something was possessing him - maybe it was old David or it was the ever-dominant nutso Creegan that was making him do this - he really could care less because right now, he was on the way to scrounge up what was left of what he was rapidly losing. 

_Might as well go down trying. _His thumb pressed the number two button and held it there, speed-dialing his way to something he could never predict. In the deep recesses of his mind he could hear an echo - and it took him a moment to realize it was ringing - not the one from his head but the one in the phone. He waited what felt like painful years as he sank back into the recliner. 

_Ring - ring - ring - ring -riiiiiiiiiiing . . ._

Why was he doing this he wondered. What would he get out of it? Why the hell was he trying so goddamn hard for someone that always lived by the book, always got normal human men in her bed and not ones who were just a little off? 

_What did the word 'love' mean anyway?_

Someone picked up and instantly he jumped the gun. "Susan? Susan - I need to talk to you - Susan?" 

"Hello . . .?" 

The hand that held the phone was frozen stiff, white knuckled and clammy. He struggled to focus, to cut through the film of mist that clouded his mind. 

It wasn't Susan. 

It was a groggy _male_ voice. 

A deadly coil of bile enshrouded Creegan's throat and everything might as well have gone to hell. He was almost perfectly sober now - although just a _little_ off. "Sanders." 

The voice replied quizzically. "Y-Yes? Who is this? Susan's in the shower right now --" 

The taut thread had finally snapped. Anger boiled and was thrown over Creegan in huge gallons. He stood up very quickly and all his energy was focused in his arm to operate as he slammed his phone over and over against the wall, creating quite impressive damage. 

"_I _[BANG]_ am _[BANG] _FUCKING _[BANG]_ GLAD _[BANG]_ I have _[BANG]**_ INSURANCE ON THIS _**[BANG]**_ DAMN PHONE--_**!! [BANG]_"_ With one final blow, he smashed the cell phone into cracked and shattered parts, being from solid and reliable then transformed to small wires and buttons and pieces of wreckage hardly anyone could recognize on first glance. 

Suddenly releasing the piece of ruined communication technology and watching as it plummeted to the ground, there was one other thought before he collapsed face first onto his bed. 

_It seems that the more you love them, the more you have to pretend they just don't exist._

"You exist Susan . . ." He murmured, already halfway to Dreamland as warm salty liquid escaped from underneath his closed eyelids. " . . .don't disappear . . .don't ever . . . _disappear._" 

-- 

_Tuesday._

Captain Enright wasn't sitting in one of the comfortable swivel leather chairs, but was up and pacing around. "It's one of our own now." That caused a stir among the group, and Creegan only responded with a mild forlorn exterior from where he sat at one end of the long table. 

"Personal, eh?" Bernal was shaking his head in. . .disappointment? He didn't want to waste his energy reading too much on it. He drank enough to flood a beer factory last night and the last thing he wanted to do was to be there. The steady throbbing of his head wasn't helping one bit either as he tried rubbing his temple. He didn't notice Branca's concerned glances from across the table. 

He looked like he had been through Hell's underground sewers and the feeling of wanting to cry surged back upon her while she bit it down. She wanted to yell at him for calling the way he did last night - which she of course knew it was him even if Sanders didn't - but at the same time she wanted to explain herself to him. Mixed emotions didn't bode very well with her these days. He had been avoiding her all morning - and even with what happened yesterday, she wasn't really making the effort of getting out of her way not to speak with him. It certainly wasn't helping either that Sanders sat to her left. 

"Poor Rodriguez," Someone - Sanders - contributed his input. Creegan made the tiny effort to shoot him with an intense glare. _I'm one less short of a cell-phone because of you. The only thing that's keeping me from reaching across this table is this fucking headache - but right about now I'm seriously thinking about it. _

Not missing a beat, Branca gestured for the file in Enright's hand and trying to distract herself with work, she tried getting into it. "The autopsy report came in this morning; he didn't die by the car-crash then - they found a high level of iodochlorhydroxyquin in his stomach contents." Receiving befuddled stares, she simplified. "It's what's in medicine to treat eczema - or even athlete's foot which Agent Rodriguez had. Seems the suspect forcefully shoved a tube of his medicine down his throat, strangled him then was somehow transported into his car - configuring the brake system so it looks tampered with before he was set off a cliff, hoping that if all went well the car would tumble down, crash and light afire. I think our 'Old-Maid' suspect is linked with this one." 

Creegan couldn't help but be impressed. He kind of liked it, feeling a small sense of pride swell within him for Branca's detective work. For once he didn't have to wrack his tired brain. "Ballpark: Hausen and Snider's bodies were both burned and by the time police got there, the bodies were ashes - too late to salvage out of the wreckage. So you're saying that they could have been poisoned or somehow disadvantaged before the car-ride to their doom, in eventuality leading to their deaths?" 

Branca almost felt a flutter stir in her chest as he was actually making the effort to talk to her, even if it was strangely cold and professional. "Yes, if indeed we're talking about the same killer involved in both cases - i.e. Rodriguez is the third vic." 

Creegan nodded, breaking in the use of his abnormal mind. "A sequential, organized killer. Male or female . . .?" 

Enright considered this for a moment as he leaned on the back of Branca's chair. "Has the suspect left behind any traces? Any form of evidence bagged? Prints lifted? Anything?" He sounded exasperated - desperate. There was a silence for a couple of seconds, meanwhile Creegan just stared at Branca and she stared back - no thoughts, no words, no underlining meanings were held within that space. It was almost like just seeing one another comforted the other even if just a little. 

"Actually," Swopes spoke up, clearing his throat. "There were no prints on the body or anywhere else in the vehicle besides the ones belonging to Agent Rodriguez - it seems like the killer was wearing gloves. Although I managed to find some hair follicles from the cracked dashboard - I could run a check on DNA samples if you like." 

"No time for what I like, do it. Rivers, Bernal: Find the ex-boyfriend-mechanic - he may very well hold the many answers to the questions here." On his way out the door, the captain announced loudly over his shoulder. "I don't want to lose anyone else under my supervision - much less in these headquarters so you all watch your backs." 

The tension hung over the heads of particular agents around the rectangular table, but this time it was Creegan who first got up, quickly striding toward the door as he swung his jacket on. Branca was about to protest but feeling a bit put-out after he didn't look at her anymore once their boss left the room. It was like easing into your personal selves once Big Brother exited. She felt as though a glass barrier would shatter if she were to say something out of the lines. 

Bernal however couldn't be more ignorant as he stepped up to center stage. "Hey Creegan - where the hell do you think you're going?" 

At the doorway he stopped, not looking at anyone but at the shiny black floor he stood on, shoulders slouched in defeat as the manipulated truth submerged from his dry mouth. "Going to get a new cell-phone. Mine . . .fell down some stairs." With that, he left the group to wonder once again at the awkward detective - nonetheless detecting something other than his usual eccentricities. 

-- 

It began to be a chilly day in this San Francisco winter weather, and Hallie shrugged on her black wool jacket and matching gloves, leather boots. She stepped out and locked her door behind her, breath puffing transparent clouds in the air as she started walking across the street to where a pay-phone awaited. Something was wrong with her phone service so she had had to go scrounge up as many quarters she could find since. Upon entering the little glass booth, she reached for the overused and abused black receiver, contributed the given amount and punched in some numbers, meanwhile looking warily around at passerby. 

There was no ringing that resonated into her ears but an annoying automated voice that no one liked hearing. With a heavy sigh, she replaced the receiver on its hook. She had been trying to get a hold of David since the night before and apparently he either had it turned off or something . . . 

Suddenly her hands pressed up against the glass as she saw someone very familiar get out of a car and walk toward the nearby cell-phone store. It was David, looking for all the world like some insomniac-trodden subway hopper. Despite that he still managed to look as handsome as he always did as she watched him disappear behind a door. 

Her heart pounding faster, she burst out of the booth and quickly made her way after him. Pushing against the door it wouldn't let her in - then the PULL indicator made her want to kick herself as she pulled it wide and running inside. Looking around desperately she sought him out - anxiety growing within her stomach at the prospect of seeing him again. She turned and turned on her feet, looking every which way and scanning each aisle until at last she found him testing out a very expensive looking flip-phone. Racing to him as though she were being chased by a stampede, she threw her arms around his waist from behind and burying her face into his back. You can only imagine his reaction as he tried to turn and look over his shoulder at the new invasion, dropping the new mobile in his hand. 

"_Unh -_ What the hell - What . . . Oh, Ms. Piper," She loosened her arms so that he could turn around and meet her face. His tired eyes studied her for a moment as he began to smile slightly. "What a surprise - really, _really_ a surprise." He then looked taken aback when her eyes started watering and she began giggling a little, swiping at her childish tears. "Hey - what's wrong? Why are you crying for?" 

Hallie only shook her head and came close to hug him once more. "I . . . I missed you, David. I missed you . . ." 

Creegan was all the more surprised and his body stiffened when she looked up at him, as though expecting him to kiss her or something just as ridiculous. He found it strange to find a perfectly attractive woman clinging to him so intimately when he barely knew her - and also was a victim of crime. "Oh, I . . . Thank you . . .?" 

She giggled again and stepped back once - yet still very within his personal space. "You're very welcome. Everything's just been so hectic for me. I've been trying to get a hold of you - did you lose your phone or something?" 

"You could say that." Creegan chuckled a little as he remembered his little destructive streak the night before. "So that's why I'm here," he bent over and picked up the phone he dropped. "I had insurance on it so . . ." 

Hallie nodded in understanding, still a happy smile accented on her soft features. "Oh - Oh yes, of course." 

Creegan tilted his head to the side as he examined her from head to toe. "So how are you? Is your leg better?" 

"Yes, yes, much better thank you. I've been . . .all right I guess. I've been visiting Danny every day now - or at least trying to. The police haven't yet found my mugger - I think that he'll get away with it scot-free." 

"I know how you feel - there's always those who get away every single time." He looked down at his potential cell-phone, his thoughts elsewhere. "That's why I do what I do. My shooter got away with leaving me like this so I said, 'What the hell? Why let anyone else get away with turning other people's lives to shit?' Sometimes it helps in making me feel better in knowing there are other people out there that's suffering more than me, seeing just how much of a foolish bastard I am." 

Hallie set a hand on his arm, grasping onto him gently and regarded him with a sympathetic look. "Everyone's like that. There's nothing wrong with you David - I like you as you are now . . . And you can't help everybody. You're only one person." He bit his tongue even harder when she leaned up off her heels and placed such a tender kiss on his cheek, leaving him stunned and slightly addled as he stared down at her. Her reddish-brown eyes studied the small stitching on his dark blue jacket, running a finger down the front zipper. "I . . . like you. I - I . . .love you, David. Do you understand?" After hearing a confession like that, what was he supposed to say? 

What the hell was this woman doing? And right in the middle of a cell-phone store - also the day after his heart was bludgeoned and told to literally give-up and that he couldn't have what wasn't his. But right now some small part of him wanted to kiss her back, hard and long and get lost into his mental male psyche that craved wanton warmth and sex and intimacy that seemed so foreign to him now. The other part wanted to scare her away with his antics, to show her just exactly what she would get in the chocolate-box that made up the David Creegan he was now. 

_I've touched so much evil within my line of work for so many years, yet . . ._ Unbidden, an image of Susan's tearstained face arose from the depths of his consciousness, the turquoise blue of her eyes piercing into him and was more painful than any bullet he had ever had to deal with. Right now, in that very second he was more tired than he had ever been. 

Temporarily easing back to his reasonable sanity, he shook his head, rattling out his nerves like an area-rug shaken of its dust. This was too much to handle. But then again, it always has been. "I . . . Need to um, take care of this later." He held up the cell-phone as he strode over to the clerk at the end of the aisle, leaving a distressed Hallie behind. 

-- 

**Notes: **Well, this is the unedited version of Chapter 7. Thought I'd get it out now and review it later since I have the tendency to edit a chapter over-extensively but hey, it doesn't hurt does it? LOL It's just that I wanted to get it out today - tomorrow I have to go to the DMV and get my permit [yay] and also I need it to at least have one piece of identification since I lost my others [stupid stupid stupid]. I hope I'm not a vic for identity theft - I saw some commercials on those and thought they were hilarious but now - they're still funny and all but you know [nervous laugh]. Okidoke, see ya in Chapter 8! Thanx SO much for all your kind support. It's so greatly appreciated. 

**Thanx ya'll! [lol]:**

Alamo Girl: Haha, definitely we'll have David as the semi-weirdness Knight in shining er . . . Subway chic Frontal-lobe Injury man! LOL Yeah the angst - the angst kills me to write seriously lol. Thanx so much for still reading! I always look for your review, isn't that weird? Rock on! 

Mrs. Rhett Butler: Yes, boys can be so utterly stupid it hurts - although yes I have to agree, Creegs is too cute and we'll just have to let him go, won't we? Lol It's not his fault he got shot in the head! I think so anyways haha. David thinks or is confused that the reason behind Susan is crying is that he won't leave her alone and love who she wants and he keeps pushing it and pushing it - then she cries. Dummy David, haha. He doesn't really know how to handle the emotion either, you're right, just like with Hallie. Tears scare him away a little at times but he did comfort Susan in Slash 30 after Laney died. That time a hug was just too needed - but in the elevator she was telling him to leave her alone. Eh. Yup. One big mess! Just like my room... 

Flame 31: Thanx a lot! Here's your update, hehe. I'll try to keep up the good work, I swear. [hand on bible] 

Self-Injured: Yes, only my wallet but that's bad. Really bad! LOL I was distracted is all. Boo. You missed Entropy?! [gasps] Well, better watch for the reruns! I have it recorded so I can watch all the Creegan-goodness over and over again by just a punch of a button! [evil laugh] Muwahahahaha! OK I'm dumb. I read your chappie too! Good good good! I was so glad when Susan confided in him - even if it was a bit forced but I like that he doesn't take shit and beat around the bush. Awesome. [two thumbs up] 

Ginger: Seriously, I'm writing this fic when I'm supposed to be 1.) Doing my correspondence school work. 2.) Studying the DMV manual. 3.) Taking a shower. Haha but thanx for reading. Don't get too far behind in your work - it's a bitch, hehe. 

--> -->


	9. Pretty Devil

**_Caveat:_** Disclaims on all Touching Evil subjects, sadly. Hope you guys caught Grief last night [tears]. I didn't since I don't get that channel where I'm staying. I'm having my dad tape it haha! Anyway, so any normal person would know the DMV's closed on Saturdays. So some village's missing their idiot, what can I say. Probably sometime this week. Enjoy this chapter which is two chapters put together to make up for the delay. 

**- Heaven's Burning -__**

**__**By Mia Ai-no-Tora 

**Chapter Nine:** "Pretty Devil" 

_- This chapter is rated R for sexual scenes, language._ - 

First it was tears. 

Creegan himself didn't really expect it; though of course he never could predict when and where or why exactly would a woman be crying, and for him no less. 

Hallie began shaking, mandatory for one who was having a semi-breakdown as her sobs turned to outright cries and was loud enough to capture the attention of all the members in the store. Everyone was either looking at Creegan - giving him stares saying, _Is that your girlfriend?_ _Or your child?_ - or at Hallie who finally collapsed onto the cold floor and bawling her head off. She wet the ground with her tears - someone should bring out one of those bright yellow 'slippery when wet' cautionary signs out was one thought Creegan had before he sighed and walked back towards her, getting down on his haunches to be level with her. He would have taken a much longer time to carefully pick and choose his words, but honestly was the Jack of all trades in the business of the frontal-lobe injury. "You weren't expecting me to say 'I love you' back, did you?" A woman nearby suddenly shook her head and strode away. Another one of those complicated and mismatched boyfriend-girlfriend arguments about love. _Honestly - youth these days._

Hallie slowly lifted her head where she had buried it in her arm, nose red and eyes shining, lips trembling. _What was she, a child?_ "No, I didn't - I _don't_ expect anything from you David. Just seeing you walk away from me like that . . . It hurt me like you - y-you wouldn't know. I've had so many people walk out on me . . . Please don't let me go through it again with you." She was pleading and wearing out the helpless factor as she reached out and held a vice-like grip on his wrist. "_Please_, David." 

He regarded her for a long moment, eyebrows drawn together. _She's gone through a lot. That's all, she's not crazy._ Though something in his brain was signaling warning signs, faint but audible like sounds through a thick blanket of fog. "All right. I'll help you home, just get off the floor - somebody might slip or something and my insurance company won't be very happy." Grabbing both forearms, he hefted her upright until she was leaning against him, breathless. She took off her thick gloves and used them to wipe her face with before stuffing them into her jacket pockets. 

"Jeezus, I haven't seen a tantrum thrown like that since the time of the Beanie-Baby craze - they had ran out of all the seal ones. Sam cried all the way home until bedtime." He chuckled. Somehow he had the energy to laugh. Hallie was mesmerized by his smiling lips but the darkened eyes were what pulled her in the most. 

"I'm sorry . . . I'm such a burden to you, aren't I." He began leading her toward the clerk to register his new phone in. 

Creegan let out a short bark of laughter. "No, not necessarily. You just kind of got me with the 'I love you David' line. That was a good one Hallie - you really got me there. You looked so serious - you should go into the acting biz. Hell, you got the knockout bod for it." He handed the phone to the guy behind the counter for him to get one in a box. 

She looked confused for a second, trying to meet his face. "Wh-What do you mean by that?" 

He was playing around with the display models on the counter, intrigued. "I meant - hey, look how small this one is! And it lights up too . . . Great for Vegas and camping . . ." He held it up, with all its flashing glory as he waved it high over his head. "Let's have a cell-phone party! Oh hey, look, this one slides down. Definitely wouldn't smash that one up . . ." 

Suddenly she seized his arm and pulled him toward her, eyes burning into him in demand. "_What_ did you _mean_ 'I got you with the _I love you_' line?" Her voice was cold, edgy - _different. _Creegan stopped, literally halted all motor-functions to study at the sudden change in her attitude. 

"Hallie, are you feeling okay?" He shrugged out of her robotic grip and laying a hand on her forehead for effect. "You don't look so well." 

The guy finally came back with a box with his new cell-phone, trying to hand it to Creegan. "Here you go sir, all ready for you --" Without warning, Hallie slammed her fist into the glass case, shattering it to splinters of glass that fell all over the floor. Creegan as well as the customer-service guy stepped back at least four feet away in alarm, appalled at what she had just done. He looked from her tight, white-knuckled fist to her pale drawn face, taut features. She didn't seem to notice that her hand was bleeding profusely all over the inside of the display case as she breathed out evenly, "I meant what I said, David. I'm in love with you. I hope you learn from now on that I don't kid around about something like _that._" 

A tense silence as anyone was too frightened to move. Swallowing deeply, Creegan tried to calm the warning signs loud and clear in his brain as he stepped forward, glass cracking under his boots. "Okay, all right already," He held out his hands, fingers spread before him like he always did when coaxing a panicked suspect and using the same calm tone. "Let me just get my phone and we can be on our way. Okay Hallie? Hallie, look at me." 

She tried to catch her breath, her eyes suddenly widening as she gazed down at her bloodied hand. "Oh . . . Oh God . . ." 

The detective came forward, holding onto her wrist and examining it. "Just a little cut, no big deal. Hang on." He took his shirt and ripped a good piece from it before winding it around her hand and she watched with curious, dry eyes. "There. Now let me go get this taken care of: don't move." He came back to the guy behind the counter and flashed his badge rather clumsily, signaling that this was over and he didn't need further information and paperwork to shell-out. The guy only nodded bleakly and handed him the box with the brand-new cell, eyes switching quickly from him to Hallie, him to Hallie and reminding him too much of Cyril. "Right then, we be off." He propelled her toward the door and managed to get the door open by pushing on through. 

-- 

_Wednesday._

Branca fought off fatigue by going to the staff room and filling up a dixie-cup of hot black coffee, then walking towards the window she stood and watched the rain pound and ease, pound and ease every two minutes. She hadn't yet told Alex who she preferred but nowadays she didn't need to say the words; they were as obvious as the nose on her face. She sighed a bit too loudly for her liking - she had asked Bernal yesterday afternoon why Creegan had not yet returned and he gave her a look that said _He's _your _partner_ before giving up an answer. "He's at Hallie Piper's house and that he's not going to be in until tomorrow. Apparently he's helping her with something." She disliked the sly undertones he had watermarked his comment with. 

"I thought he said he was going to get a new cell-phone," she had said. 

Chas Bernal had laughed much to her distaste. "Yeah, _right -_ I'd eat my tie if that were true." Susan didn't know whether to laugh at the similarities between them or to brand 'ASS' on his bald head with a scorching hot iron. He continued onward with a much too conspiratorial tone. "He sounded a bit too preoccupied on the phone to be cell-phone shopping, if you get me." 

Back in present time, the hand that held her dixie-cup of coffee tightened unconsciously by the owner. _Why that . . . That son of a -_

"Hey." 

Heaven only knew how startled she was to hear his voice in her ear. With a jerk, she had spilled her coffee all over the front of her white blouse and she yelped more in surprise at seeing David standing so close to her than the scalding liquid rolling down her chest. Creegan watched with odd amusement as she hastily fanned herself with her hand, her mouth parted and eyes dancing. "Hothothothot -" 

"What? Tot-tot-tot?" He was already smiling widely as she pushed him aside and ran for the napkins, grabbing them by the handfuls and attempting to wipe off as much coffee as she could. 

"Not _tot,_ idiot. Hot!" Turning on the faucet, she leant over the sink and tried soaking her blouse and it was quite a rather awkward action as Creegan not so nonchalantly glanced at her backside then walking toward her. 

"It's not my fault you decided to bathe in coffee," He casually set his arm against the staff refrigerator. "You know, it'd be better if you just took your blouse off to soak it - it'll stain if you just keep doing it like that." 

The suggestion didn't go over Susan very well as her cheeks turned even rosier. "Screw you. I would never take my shirt off while I'm in the middle of a public area and someone could just as readily walk in and -" Without letting her finish, he was at the door fast as lightning, closing it - her heart sped up when he deftly turned the lock. She watched him, mouth agape as he walked back to her. "The _hell --_ and you think I'll take it off in front of the likes of _you_??" 

"Judas Priest Branca, it's not like I'm here for a free peep show," he countered, sounding exasperated. "I've seen a naked woman before. Believe me, I'm no virgin in more ways than one. And anyway we're partners - we're bound to help each other one way or the other - or so Enright says." That was one of the cheesiest pickup lines she had ever heard although it was the most believable coming from him. 

She turned away snidely, venom dripping from her tongue and trying to hide the fact that he looked so disturbingly attractive in the dark blue shirt and faded jeans, the shoulder holster demanding for a higher authoritative stature. He wore them well would be an understatement. "Of _course_ you've seen so many naked women before. Sorry - forgot, my bad." She grabbed more napkins, wetted them under the faucet and applied them on her shirt - only managing to leave tissue residue from the delicate napkins. She hissed in complaint and didn't notice Creegan approaching her from behind until he set his hands on her shoulders. 

Biting down the urge to whip around and punch him, instead she stepped away and shot him a dangerous glare. "What're you doing?" 

No effect. "I'm trying to help you Susan, do you know what 'help' means?" He prodded her as though she were a child before he chuckled. "Hurry up already - I'll close my eyes and turn away if you want, just stop being childish; that's my job." 

The hot coffee on her chest must have slightly burned her skin but she felt it cooling - nonetheless she needed to do something about the burn. And she knew Creegan wouldn't let her through the door if she tried to leave - she knew him too well. She looked more deeply at herself. Why would she refuse him? Wouldn't this be one way to make him see how she . . . 

Wordlessly she shook her head, her wounded pride was just something too big to overcome as she attempted yet again to take care of it herself. Sighing impatiently, Creegan closed the gap between them and, for a few seconds of swatting her hands away and ignoring her protests, he began to undo the top button . . .then the second . . .third. The blood in her veins heated toward higher degrees and she reluctantly gave-in, inner Susan shushing and lolling her to shut up and let him do it because she wanted him to, she wanted him to just for him to get this close, to breathe in his nearness as much as she possibly could. She thanked God that the walls weren't made of glass like her heart was, delicate and see-through. 

She was looking off to the side, attention set on a cup sitting atop a table nearby. Eyes brimming with consternation, lip bitten, breath shaky. He was watching her, almost secretly as he purposely took his time with her buttons. She was beating herself up inside at the self-proposed torture she threw herself in. _I could've unbuttoned myself, but this . . .this is one of my secret indulgences I can never have. _She suddenly turned her head and slightly tilted it up, eyes studying every inch of his face like she had never done so before. _I can never have you, can I?_

He abruptly stopped at the second to last button, eyes blinking in surprise, darting towards hers and the look burned right through her if the coffee hadn't. They caught each other's eyes and held. Her lips parted and she had just realized she had said her thought out loud. She tried backing away from him but the sink behind her was what stopped that course of action instantly. His voice startled her, shaking the world of reality that they were pawns in. "No don't," he whispered softly, his breath stirring her soft blonde bangs and she fought the urge to shiver. He held her stationary by the forearms. "Don't run away again . . .I hate it when you run away from me." 

Her eyes began to water and she swallowed it away. If she were to look at herself, she would have been distraught at what she found. A woman, shirt open and having not only her heart revealed in front of a man she hid herself from yet wanted to open herself to the most. A clashing yearning, an overly eager desire to break loose and scatter like stars across the sky, the heightening risk of losing herself altogether, the Branca she wore during the day that carried the humble professional image about. And then it came at the end of the day when she took it off and her real self stepped out, beaten and worn-out. That's what Creegan saw every time he looked at her, no matter how hard she tried to turn away. 

{{_. . .they say temptation will _

_destroy our love, the _

_never-ending _

_hunger . . .}}_

He waited for any sign of change as he watched her face with such commitment, such loyalty, such . . .love for lack of a better word. Here she was, underneath his hands where he had wanted her to be for so long and now he didn't know exactly what to do. No, there was something. Always something. He leaned his head down until it was perfectly leveled with hers, casting aside any doubts he might have and dived in; he focused intently on her lips since her eyes were too intense, too soul-searching and it was as though someone kicked him from behind. 

{{. . ._but I fear I have nothing to _

_Give - I have so much to lose _

_inside this lonely_

_place. . ._}} 

Susan was gradually losing the fight. A star exploded between them, sucking anything unwilling within. _No, no, no, yes, yes, -yes-._

{{ _. . .tangled up in your embrace _

_there's nothing I'd like better _

_than to _

_fall . . .}_} 

The loud sound of the doorknob rattling caused a cataclysmic bomb to drop and break things apart, as Susan turned at the last second before the rush of promise could ever be sealed. It was as though a twig snapped and knifed through the silence of their ethereal forest of _something more._ She sharply discontinued their close contact by stepping away and off to the side, buttoning her shirt as quickly as she could and avoiding his eyes. Her heart was pounding madly making it difficult to breathe. 

Creegan just stood where he was tossed aside, hand on the counter as his thoughts did a quick retake of what he was so close to yet so inevitably so far away from. The doorknob rattled again - three consecutive knocks. He looked up at Branca's back, the way her shoulders moved, the way she stood . . . There was always something, wasn't there? Always something that would keep them apart - either their profession or Branca or Creegan themselves, a glitch in the system of their personal lives. 

Branca turned and met his eyes and the knife wasn't in her gut anymore. She felt it in her heart as she witnessed the most dejected and dispirited expression on his face. _Why? Why are you looking at me like that? Why, when you can have Hallie or someone equally or more beautiful to fall into your arms?_ The wound reopened, weapon deadly, striking. Too late now; he saw everything she hid from everyone else, the drawer opened, contents spilled. He said aloud willingly what she couldn't. 

"I can never have you, can I?" 

He shook his head as if to answer her silence as he made his way past her over to the door, unlocked it and turned the knob, pulled. One more glance behind and all he said was, "You better soak that - or else it'll stain. I'll send over Sanders to help you." Then he mercilessly walked out - a cloud covered up the sun. 

Outside it began to rain once more. 

-- 

_Wednesday evening._

Back to the drawing board again. Creegan was surprised at himself; he managed to get home before starting in on the festivities early as he lugged yet another six-pack of Fat Tire from the passenger seat, not even bothering to lock the car as he made his way to his apartment. 

Still it rained and showed no signs of ebbing away. As he fumbled for his keys, he heard music in his head. _Weird,_ he thought as he dropped the keys, setting the six-pack down for a moment to have use over his left hand. _Why would I have Enya in my head?_ It was after a short while he realized that his next door neighbor was the New-Age wielding culprit. Better than the old, grungy ghetto-threatening motel he used to call home; it was all Susan's doing. It always was. She had come over to pick him up and the living condition she saw him inhabiting was just too much for her to stand - so she offed him to a cheap but decent apartment his pension could survive. Didn't matter anyway - no matter where he stayed, it seemed that it transformed to however he was feeling at the moment. Welcome to Motel the II - rent of $500 per month so be prepared to be hosed. One bedroom, one bath, living-room. He did it though; he did it to make her happy. Nowadays he found himself doing it more often. 

As soon as he got the door open, the melancholy music abruptly stopped and a new tune that he didn't recognize floated through the wall. 

{{ . . . _6 am, day after Christmas, we throw some clothes on in the dark_

_The smell of cold - car-seat is freezing_

_The world is sleeping_

_I am . . .drunk . . .}}_

__

__He dragged himself inside like a wet dog, whipping his head around to get the rain out of his eyes and hair. _Wet furniture . . . Interesting. _It was dark as he peeled his jacket off, hanging it on an invisible coat-hook behind the door and striding to his bedroom with the beer, not noticing his coat drop to the floor in a wet soggy heap. He tore off the OSC ID hanging around his neck and tossing it behind him - he didn't care whether or not he would find it again, just something to annoy anyone who cared to know who he was. _Who'd wanna know a cop with a debilitating will to wake up each morning to go to a job he hates just to pass the time anyway? _Kicking off his shoes every which way and almost knocking the lamp off the night-stand, the shirt was next to go as he pulled it over his head and somewhere in the vicinity of his bedroom. 

__

_{{ . . . Now that I have found someone_

_I'm feeling more alone than_

_I ever have before . . .}}_

__

__He fell onto the bed in one breath, setting the pack of beer on his abs he barely worked to keep but were still toned and obvious. Ripping off one can, opened it and the sound of _ker-fchtt_ like music to his ears, he mouthed 'cheers' to no one then tipped his head back, chugged as darkness consumed him. Drinking poison to warm what little excuse of a heart that was still pounding within its little cage. 

_Drowning slowly._

__

__[_bzz, bzz, bzz_] 

He opened his eyes, frowning deeply at the interruption. An impatient hiss escaped through his teeth as he reached into his pocket for the cell-phone he hadn't yet smashed up, vibrating in his hand and telling him that someone actually knew he existed wanting to exchange words with him no less. If that didn't make him feel better, he could always go back to chugging. With a swift movement, Creegan flipped it open vaguely reminding him of Star Trek and the little _swoosh-kalink_ and he felt the insane urge to belt out in a deep William Shatner rendition _Scotty, beat me up! _Or was it _beam me up_? There was just too many details to remember and frankly by George, he was sick of them all. __

__

__"Creegan." The secondhand ticked in some godforsaken clock which wasn't in his apartment, and he said his name again until there was a response. "_Creeee_gan." 

"D-David?" 

_Not Susan. _He blinked profusely - there was an eyelash caught in there somewhere - and he sat up. "Yeah." 

Shuffling, then there was some kind of tapping noise he didn't recognize - he visualized a pen hurriedly banging a table. "This is Hallie, I . . . Could you . . .?" 

Instantly he took a long swig from his beer, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. "Hallie. What - Is there something wrong?" Possibilities ran through his mind - Hallie getting mugged again, Hallie getting slashed again, Hallie on the floor of Hell's Cell's in the flip-phone aisle, Hallie smashing a counter with her bare fist. 

"David, Is . . . Is it okay if I come by?" 

The flood of images trickled to a stop. "What? Why?" He couldn't tell whether or not he came off as rude. 

"My dress - I'd like to have my dress back if it's okay," She cleared her throat sheepishly, her voice ending husky. "I'm nearby - I can just walk over there if you don't mind." 

Just the thought of her being nearby gave him the hibby-jibbies. "O-Oh, um," He glanced at the beers and the one in his hand. "Well, it's raining - I could just drive by tomorrow -" 

"I have an umbrella." 

He was stuck as a fly to a roll of sticky paper. He would have happily taken crooks, guns, hookers and murder if you asked him. Finally he sighed; hopefully it'll be over quickly and he could get back to showering his throat with warm beer. "All right, okay, I'll be here." He rose off the bed with a grunt, going to the pile of clothes in hopes of finding the confounded dress. 

"Thank you so much David. You don't know how much this means to me." He could see her smiling and bubbling with happiness. His stomach turned. 

"It's okay Hallie, really." 

"All right, see you soon." [click] 

Creegan lowered the phone to look at it, his ear warm and pulsing from pressing it so tightly. He then promptly finished the beer off, tossing it somewhere before rummaging around a pile of clothes for Hallie's dress. 

-- 

The door was knocking. No, someone was knocking _on_ the door. Creegan slowly got up off the floor from where he was leaning against the foot of his bed, the last can of beer clutched tightly in his right-handed grip. The trip to the door was something out of a 90's X-Files episode - blurry with high contrast lighting but to his dismay, no Scully. Swaying, he snatched the knob and turned it, a blast of cold air hitting his face. There was Hallie, soaked from head to toe, her umbrella at her side. His brain barely acknowledged the fact that she didn't use her umbrella. "Come in," he slurred, stepping aside and hitting the wall. 

She stepped in, looking around for anyone else. "Sorry to bother you." 

He shook his head, closed the door behind her as he walked toward the couch and fell into it. "No bother - just don't expect a beer. I'm all out for the moment." He held it up for her to see. She studied him, feeling around for a light switch and flipping it up. In the light she could see exactly what was what. "David, you're drunk." 

"No, I don't get drunk off of a six-pack." Then as an afterthought he added, "Well, there _was_ an extra pack in the trunk . . ._that_ might've done the trick." He didn't notice the darkness eat up her eyes as she approached him with careful grace. 

"You must have had a rough day at work." She slowly lowered herself to his right and he didn't bother to focus. 

"That's my job in an eggshell - _rough._ This is only the," He strained a bit, closing his eyes tightly in thought. "_Second_ time I've gotten drunk this week. It's not like I do it excessively. . ." Her nearness barely registered, the length of her body pressing against his side and chest. He felt her hands on his face, gently caressing, infinitely soft and warm. 

"I've had my share of rough so I can relate with you, David. Everything's been hectic for me lately and I . . . I don't know if I'll last. My world is crumbling brick by brick . . . The doctors just gave Danny five months." He breathed in her perfume mixed with rain and something within him stirred. Tiredly opening his eyes he gazed at her with slight difficulty. 

"I'm sorry . . .about everything, about your family and - and - and about that mugger bastard -" 

"You've done all you can for me. That's why I love you." He felt her breath on his lips, hot, moist. Thought processes stuttered. 

"I-I'm sorry." How he got himself to say the words was foreign even to him. What he truly meant by the apology was also foggy and unclear. He looked away from her face - he hated seeing hurt. 

She shifted, all of a sudden standing before him. "Do you mind if I use your shower? I'm soaking wet." She laughed a little despite herself. Creegan forced himself to operate. 

"Er, yeah . . . 'course." 

"Could you come with me?" 

If he was sober he would have recognized her method of operation - but he wasn't, even if he figured she already knew where the bathroom was it didn't hurt to get up and help the blood flow of his body. " . . .Sure." She reached for his hand to help him up, wrapping her fingers in his before she let him lean against her, leading him to where she already knew the bathroom to be. 

"Do you have any towels?" She pulled him into the small bathroom and the standing shower, looking around for a clean towel. He shivered; the cold tile beneath his feet stung him. 

He shook his head, then tried again by mumbling, "No. Sorry 'bout that." She turned back to him with an understanding smile before it faded slowly. 

"Don't be." He was too slow, far too slow to come up with a reaction when she closed the door behind him, taking his beer away and setting it next to the sink and it all seemed like slow motion to him. He peered intently at her, trying to gauge what exactly was in those eyes she had fixed on him. With gentle hands, she laid one on his chest, the other behind his neck - she was about the same height as he was, her mouth nearing until it grazed his bottom lip. "David," she breathed and he felt simultaneously numb and alive. Intimating the contact, she almost if not became aggressive, catching his bottom lip in her mouth and sucked heavily, face tilted, the hand on the back of his neck stroking his hair. 

_Too much . . . Too many . . . Too many details . . ._

"Mm - Hallie, I --" Reluctantly he pushed her away, his bottom lip aching and in his half-drunken stupor he begged for more. "I can't - we can't - can't . . ." 

"Shh, David. You _can._" Hallie stepped back and he exhaled heavily, only when he discovered she began to strip herself of her clothing. He was trapped within the abyss of his male-trained mind; he was frozen, too stunned to move. With quick precision, her shirt and the pants she wore were at her feet under ten seconds and she stepped forward, completely and undeniably naked. _Does this woman ever wear underwear . . .?_ This time around his vision was a bit altered, blurry. He struggled to stay upright as he bumped back against the closed door. 

"Hallie -" 

In a low hushed whisper, "Let me in, David. Please." She caught his mouth with her own once again, her chest pressing against his. The world shook all around him; his scar pulsed and the thought of Harry Potter came and went in his muddled mind. Harry Potter and Star Trek, co-ed volleyball, Cyril's fries and the coconut rum of Branca's, the feel of her hand on his lips, on his shoulder. His reflection on Bernal's shiny bald head, Rivers in the conference room with the Doritos, the color of Susan's bra. Emily Akins' grave, that day at the pond with his daughters, seeing his dad across the street in Boston, shattering Hinks' taillight, comforting Susan after Laney's death . . . 

Everything about his body told him to give in, indulge recklessly; he had nothing, no one to lose because there had been no one to lose in the first place. His mind argued and resisted as he physically relented and slowly his arms moved almost mechanically. 

_You know you want it you know you need it why are you doing this it isn't like you . . ._

It wasn't long until he began to reciprocate, eyes closed and he dove in front of the bus from hell. He kissed her back hard, desperately as her hands worked on the front of his jeans, unbuckling his belt without him noticing. He held her face in his hands and stopping only when she pulled his shirt over his head before they lunged back toward one another. 

_There's just that part of me that . . ._cracks_ at the end of the day, and I have to get home before I turn back into myself._

Slowly she walked backwards into the shower, grabbing his hand and placing it on her breast as she invaded his mouth with her tongue. He barely heard her moan of anticipation. 

_Rule number one: no personal stuff. No sex stuff. Don't tell me I look nice, don't tell me I smell good. Don't mess with me, period._

__

__She was so beautiful. Even in their first car ride, when her hair was still a dark brown. He never did ask her why she dyed it. He never told her she looked just as beautiful either way. 

_So what was it like . . . dying?_

The image of her contented face when she received the lilies, genuinely warming his heart. 

_No, _we _most certainly aren't. Never._

The anger that grabbed a hold of her tender features when she slapped him in the elevator. Her eyes when he had stopped unbuttoning her blouse. 

_I can never have you, can I?_

Hallie's hands started to unbutton his jeans, possessive, rough. Suddenly without warning, his eyes snapped open - more awake than ever. He pushed her harshly away, turning and grabbing her clothes off the floor. Trying not to stare too low, he threw her clothes at her. He held a hand up toward the door, voice shaking almost uncontrollably. "_Out._ Get out, Hallie." 

She looked utterly confused and hurt. This time he didn't care. "David, why -??" Patience running on fumes, he grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her out of the bathroom and into the living-room. 

"Get dressed." He ordered. 

She stared at him, wide-eyes stunned. "I don't understand --" 

His hand swiped at the air in front of her, his voice thundering. "Get dressed now or else I'm not going to be the only one who's seen you naked!" At the tone she visibly shook, then without further hesitation she hastily threw her clothes back on and Creegan wondered if she was a call-girl before he knew her. He backtracked. He didn't know her. He didn't know this woman named Hallie Piper. She was just a vic he had helped and brought into his house for lack of something better to do. Bernal would have a field-day if he found out about this. 

Once decent, he shuffled her to the door, opened it for her before pushing her out. She only looked back for a moment, hoping tears would win him back. "I love you Da -" 

"I'll send you the dress tomorrow. Oh," he grabbed her umbrella on the floor and handing it to her. "Use that. At least that way you won't get wet." He then closed the door, breathing heavily as he leaned back against it. This was it; Bob Barker has called his name and he was the next contestant on the Price is Right. Only one thing for him to do; everything was dropped onto his shoulders. 

He made his way to the living-room, tripping on his coat and falling heavily onto the floor. Picking himself up, he went to his bedroom and dove for his cell. 

Only one thing to do. No hesitation. Don't look back. Last chance. 

Creegan hand shook as he pressed the number 2 button. _Please, don't you dare be there Sanders, damn you . . ._ He waited and he waited, the ground pulling him down and he closed his eyes, swallowing back down what was threatening to come back up. He dimly wondered what time it was. 

Shuffling sound as someone picked up and he prepared himself for the worst. "Hello . . ."A tired voice, a tired _female _voice. 

His eyes watered, shining in the darkness and he jumped ahead, panic curdling his blood. "Susan - Don't you dare hang up on me Susan - hear me out - I don't care if I just interrupted you in the middle of having the best damn sex you've ever had with Colonel Mustard in the library...just. Please." 

He could hear her moving, an impatient exhale of breath. _Second chances . . . Second chances . . . _"You've got 10 seconds, Creegan." 

10 seconds felt like the world to him. 10 seconds was all he needed. No speech prepared - which he never did, he went ahead almost blindly. "I know I'm the biggest ass the world has ever seen, and I know I don't feel exactly _shame_ for what I've said to you - but I can definitely say sorry and mean it. . . .for the life of me I can mean it . . .especially when I've hurt the one woman who I've never even dreamed of hurting. Just don't ask me why - no one asks why usually when it comes to me, Susan. I hope you don't ask why. Why is not what I'm trying to sell here." 

White silence. He wanted to shoot the New Age wielding culprit next door. Then it came unexpectedly - she was chuckling. "Creegan, you know," She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. He held his own. "that was past 10 seconds." He only barely realized his cheeks were wet; somehow he thanked no one for the fact that she couldn't see him. 

A short bark of laughter escaped his dry throat. Somebody up there loved him. "Fuck it. Fuck the time. Fuck your 10 seconds...and fuck you." Relief washed over him as he stopped short. "Susan." 

"Yes." 

"Am I forgiven? Did I say fuck too many times? And would you really let me if I wanted to?" 

"Yes, yes and what?" 

"Fuck you. Fuck you Susan. Would you let me if I wanted to." 

A pause then, "Are you drunk?" 

"What does _that_ have to do with it?" 

"You are. Jesus." A concerned motherly sigh came from her. "No. No, David." 

"What? Oh, okay. Just checking." She laughed out loud and he was filled with _something more;_ it was almost as though there was no spilled coffee, no slap on the face, no near shower expedition with a woman vic. "So I didn't interrupt you in the middle of a liberating experience with Colonel Sanders?" 

"_David..._" He quickly sidestepped that one. He knew it was becoming too dangerous when she emphasized his name like that. 

"Sorry. I have an asshole for a mouth, shit just tends to fall right out..." He collapsed on his bed. 

"You've got that right." She wholesomely agreed. A few seconds silenced them and she sat up from her bed, a hand running over her face. It was so easy to forgive him, making all the more curse-worthy. _Why . . . He won't let me ask but it's all I want to know._ "I think you should stop drinking so much." 

He smacked a hand on his forehead. "It was only a couple of beers. I'm okay now . . .near enough." 

She smiled at the _deja vu _shiver running down her spine. "Not near enough - I know from experience. Translated to a couple _dozen_ beers." 

"You know me too well." 

She briefly analyzed that phrase in her mind and she found it to be true. "Would you . . . Would you like to come over?" Her hand fisted in her bed covers. She was amazed she'd had the courage to be so bold so she quickly made up for it. "If you don't get some coffee now, you'll feel like a bulldozer just ran over your head in the morning - and I know you don't keep coffee around." 

He didn't mention about noticing her boldness either. "Well, at least I can arrest myself for driving under the influence . . ." 

"Oh that's right," She kicked herself over and over. "I'll pick you up. Okay David? Just . . .don't fall asleep." 

"Okay. I'll just replay a scene from Star Trek over and over . . .I wanna be the Klingon this time. What was his name . . .?" She resisted the urge to call out _Worf._ "Ah, to hell with it. Yeah - Hurry Susan. I'm seeing bright colors . . . I can hear 'Jesus Christ Superstar' from one of the walls . . . I want to see you." 

She got up off her bed and quickly readied herself. "All right. Hang on - I'm coming." 

"I'll leave the light on for ya." [_click_] With that, David Creegan headed for the bathroom to greet very cold water in the shower. 

-- 

**Disclaimer:** Lyrics from: "Fear" by Sarah McLachlan - album: "Mirrorball." The story's better if you listen to this track - it's awesome, I wish I could have seen it onscreen, hehe. The other song I have no idea who did it, sorry. 

**Notes:**Yeah, Hallie's a little off. Whaddya know hehe. I've changed the story considerably from the first draft or idea I had. The first draft seems so boring compared to this one, yay to my brain, good brain! Hehe. So . . . Anybody up for a tanned, bronzy and oiled up Jeffrey Donovan in a loin cloth? No? Maybe? Sorry, too slow! LOL 

**BIG and long Pannido for all the feedback!**

Self Injured: Whew! I actually got to post this - but anyway, sorry on hearing about you being injured! What'd you do, slip on a sock?? LOL I'm trying to cheer you up, hehe. I hope you get well soon! And yes, this [waves around] never happened. ;) You little sneak! Haha and a big bowl of ice-cream for you! Flavor - your choice. 

Rebecca: LOL No it's fine - I don't really wait for reviews, I'm just worried that no one's reading hehe! Did that make sense? Not really. Took me a while to get this one out - I made it pretty long though I think. 7-8 pages! Jeezus. :D 

Flame 31: Hey thanx a lot for reading this fic! I'm glad Hallie is so . . .readable without much explanation from me. There are so many better ones that I've read - well actually, I've only read about four or so other ones. One was by someone named **Stele3** and she can be found in the TouchingEvilFans Forum. 

Galxychld: Oh yes my friend, he can't have Susan - YET. Gonna be real _freakin'_ naughty! Haha Dodgeball preview. I hope that hint was enough to keep you wanting more! And yes, I'm so glad everybody got that part how strange Hallie's acting! Awesome! I thought it wouldn't get through enough but it did! How rad is that? Rad. 

Mrs. Rhett Butler: I've gotta admit, I love your little pen-name. LOL Thanx for all your flattering comments! Yeah, the song - just popped out. Thought it'd be corny but I decided to leave it. Should've had him sing some Sarah McLachlan song! LMAO The cell-phone scene was _smashing_ wasn't it? OK I was trying to be funny - nothing to see here folks! 

Alamo Girl: Yes, I look for your reviews. [laugh] And I am so TITILLATED to know that you check for new chapters that often! Wow - like a whiplash [_wapash!_]. I hope you liked this chappie, hehe. Thanx for reading again! 

Crimson Alessa: LOL! Yes, Susan on a rampage - might turn Creegan on so _shh!_ Man, I have such a tainted mind. No surprise there [all turn and look dubiously at Mia]. Okay fine, _doubt_ me, see if I care. :D I'm so honored to bear such praise, [ET voice] _I'm not wooooorthy!_

Ginger: Yeah, the DMV manual's the best romance novel I've ever read! Woohoo, romancing the steering-wheel, how utterly divine. LOL Haha so what state are you from then? I'll make it a note to get my license from there - sounds like their driver's tests are easy-fo-sheezy. Thanx again for reading! 

--> --> 


	10. One Last Time :This Is Why:

**_Caveat:_** USA Network owns Touching Evil - though I don't know why they call it an original series since it was based from the UK version - but hey, if it has Jeff Donovan and Vera Farmiga, I'd call it original myself. Within that itself is the originality, hehe. This chapter centers on both David's and Susan's pasts - they reveal it to one another and get to know more of each other's personal backgrounds - at least from my POV/storyline. This is just a sort of filler chapter that covers what needs to be covered before what happens next. Enjoy. 

**- Heaven's Burning** - 

By Mia Ai-no-Tora 

**Chapter Ten: **"One Last Time" 

_David Creegan Apartment._

On his way to the door, his jacket once again made a grab for his foot and he did a face-implant into the dark blue-gray carpet. Pushing up quickly, he cursed the damned garment and kicked it toward the wall before walking over to it and putting it on. _An unfeeling scapegoat that chased the goose flesh away_. He tried to remember what a sober Creegan acted like - it wasn't hard since there wasn't much difference from a drunk Creegan, just one had better balance and motor function. Didn't matter anyway; Branca had seen him this way many a time before - it was his alter-ego these days. 

She stood before the door with slight anticipation growing like a weed in her gut. Thoughts of turning back and running before he opened the door was considered multiple times as she tried to compose herself, trying to find out exactly why she was doing this. _He's drunk. Remember that Susan. You can either rekindle your interpersonal relationship or he can try digging up your past. Either way you win. _She smirked at her thoughts. This was turning out to be such a Mr. and Mrs. Smith relationship. _Relationship huh? Sounds so 'candlelit dinner.' Next thing you know he's going to have you sign a prenup. _

__

__The sound of the knob turning threw her out of her crazed thoughts. Her blue eyes met his and her heart melted. His hair was mussed giving him that adorable tousled look as though someone had just ran their fingers through it. But those eyes . . . now she really knew what it meant by the saying they were the doorways to one's soul. He didn't deserve this. He never has. "God, you look _awful_." 

He gave a hearty chuckle as he closed the door behind him. She felt relieved; she didn't want to have to go in and feel as though she were intruding, to be under scrutiny of his family's pictures taped around his mirror. Especially the one of his ex-wife whom she always thought to be a bit cold since their last meeting. Ever since she learned of their divorce she cursed the ground Holly walked on for leaving David when he needed her the most. Of course she never mentioned it; a secret that was hers to keep among her collection. 

Everything was wet. The fresh smell of rain permeated the air as she snuggled deeper into her light-blue sweater. He liked the color on her. "You know, sometimes it makes me wonder just how honest you'd be if we traded shoes. At least I try - no. Actually I don't. Scratch that." She adjusted her stance when unexpectedly he leaned against her for balance, an arm around her shoulders and she had to convince her proponent thoughts to shut up. 

They made their way to her car in the parking lot - thankfully his apartment was on the lower level and he groaned with fatigue - or so she guessed. She didn't notice him trying to get a whiff of her hair since he was taller and actually succeeding before she dumped him into the passenger seat, closing the door and walking around to the driver's side. 

Once she was inside, he mumbled, "It smells good in here. It smells like you." He watched for a reaction to see if she remembered what she had told him before. 

"Buckle up." 

Guess not. "Yes ma'am." She gave him the Look and he only gave her an unabashed smile that gave him a free ticket to redemption. He obeyed, grabbing the strap and pulling it over him. "You know what they say: Click it or ticket, right?" 

She vaguely recognized the commercial. Once she clicked herself, she turned the key and the engine of her black Infiniti purred to life. "I thought you got rid of your TV." She remembered him telling her he had just thrown his TV out the window because it was giving him nightmares of the cases they had just solved from the 6 o'clock news. She asked him why he couldn't just turn it off and he had replied because he couldn't find the remote. Typical. Of course he had been drinking [again] at the time. 

"I did. I saw it at a bar during a football game on half-time." She could've figured that one out as she shook her head, putting the car in reverse, keeping her eyes on the rear and side view mirrors. 

"Is that what you do on your spare time these days? Go out drinking with Mark or something?" 

She referred the agent by his first name he noticed. "No, I go home to drink alone if I can help it. Don't think Marky-Mark'd appreciate the mournful singing and the crying and the puking much." 

She glanced over at him with a slight frown as they got on the main road, her tone quiet with a hidden yet obvious concern. "Why have you been drinking so much lately, David?" 

He waited until his window was rolled all the way down, pressing the button with groggy curiosity as the last remnants of the recent rain splashed at his face and cooling his skin. At a red light she looked over and saw his throat work and instantly she regretted asking. "I thought you'd already know the reason by now, Susan." 

She said nothing for the rest of the car ride and he thought to do her a favor by doing the same. 

-- 

_Susan Branca Apartment._

__

__Creegan stood behind her looking around for some sort of hallway camera as she picked out the right key for the lock. "Nice digs. Liked the fountain - maybe I'll go for a dip later." He studied the door. "Does Clifford live here too?" 

She opened it and gestured him in, turning on the necessary lights. "What?" 

He stepped in carefully as though he were on sacred ground. It was to him anyway. "Clifford. Clifford the Big Red Dog." She obviously didn't get it. "Your door. It's big and red." She gave him a _knock it off with the smart-ass jokes_ look - he could make a dictionary just from the series of looks she sent him as she led him to the kitchen where the fresh pot of coffee awaited. He followed like a loyal puppy, smacking his face a little to wake up out of the drowsiness. "It's not fair . . . It's _not_ fair . . ." 

"I know," Susan agreed for a whole other reason, pouring coffee into two mugs. He sat on a tall stool at the bar, absently running a finger on the grout of the blue-tilted counter. 

"It's not fair . . . Your apartment is way bigger than mine. That's just not fair. I knew Enright gave you a fatter pension. Back-stabbing ingrate." She did a retake and rolled her eyes, a small smile at the corner of her lips. How he amused her, he could and should never know. At least this way they weren't arguing. 

She handed him the coffee - he liked it black so she didn't bother asking him how many lumps. Knowing him right now, he'd probably somehow find a way to derive a joke from that simple question. Milk and two sugars for her; it was Laney that got her started. She shook her head; now was not the time. "Much thanks, Agent Branca. You're being mighty generous tonight - what gives?" He took a long sip before staring at her. His eyes were gradually upgrading from the heavy-lidded stage of a drunk, she observed with relief. 

"I'd take advantage of it with no questions, Agent Creegan." 

"Taking advantage as we speak." His eyes fell on the holiday oven mitt laying nearby; it caught his eye because it seemed so out of place. He pictured her apartment to be just as organized as her office desk was, so he reached for it to examine it more closely. His eyes switched from the oven mitt to her hand on the counter. "You bake?" 

"I bake." 

He weighed that in his head. To think that that hand has slapped him, touched him tenderly, has held a gun and killed and baked just as readily boggled his mind. "Could you bake for me sometime?" 

The simplicity within the question and the innocence took hold of her and more than once she saw him as a small boy with so many troubles. "Sure. Whatever you like." Each smile was like a treat to her. 

"Good . . . Good. I like biscottis and jam-berry pie with lots of whipped cream." 

"I'll try my best." He finished off the rest of his coffee before hitting her up for another cup. As soon as she filled it, he got up slowly with it in one hand and rubbing his head and face in hopes to revive what sober thought he could. 

Creegan began by studying her home and taking it into his memory, bit by bit, piece by piece as though committing a crime scene into his mind. He hated how his work always served as a background for his everyday actions. "Where's your closet?" 

The question struck her as odd. "Upstairs - in my bedroom. Why?" 

He shrugged. "Just so I can tell the Straight Eye for the Queer Guys where to go." She was beginning to wonder when that coffee was going to take effect. She saw him kick off his shoes before entering the carpeted area. 

He strode toward the living room. Only a small amount of fam pictures decorated her walls. None of which having her coupled with any guy, just her and her mom and dad. _No siblings: check. Or at least none that we know of. _Her carpet was a cream-white, a simple black cherry coffee table with a set of maroon coasters, a couple Newsweek magazines and he noticed one leather-bound book under the table; on closer inspection he found it to be a bible. Somehow that amused him - the idea of her juggling her religious faiths literally under the table. _Sometimes, I think God's on a daily hiatus up there._ What a deeply sobering thought. 

One black couch, one love-seat with the infamous cotton throw all set on one length and the side of the coffee table; across the room was a flat-paneled TV and a bookshelf filled with miscellaneous pieces of literature. He decided to let go of the fact that she had a flat-panel and an upstairs to stay on her good side, so he went about studying her reading material instead. 

Susan watched him with silent curiosity, a bereaved wonderment. She knew this was his first time in her apartment after Laney's death as she sat on the love-seat with her cup, quietly deep in thought as she sipped her milk and coffee. At least this time he wouldn't need to comfort her grief over her dead lover. At least this time, she hoped, that she wouldn't have to show her vulnerable parts to him as he wielded a gun. Her home was already bloodstained as it was. 

As though he picked up on her thoughts, he suddenly turned to her. "Let's go somewhere." 

"Go somewhere? Why?" 

"Because. Because we need some fresh air." The truth yet not the ultimate truth. 

She relented almost too easily as she stood. "Okay. Whereabouts are you wanting to go?" He was relieved she didn't speculate further. 

He quickly swallowed the rest of his coffee, wiping his mouth and heading for the kitchen to set his cup in the sink. If his life wasn't organized, he would make sure hers was. "Somewhere. Anywhere. The bridge - no. That park - no. I know someplace - it has water." She raised an eyebrow. "Just trust me, partner. I promise there's no ferris-wheel involved, no gum sticking to the bottom of your shoe." 

Without thinking, a grin stretched her full lips because of him. "I trust you. I hope I won't be regretting it." 

"Me too." 

-- 

Susan hoped she wasn't making a mistake by leaving her gun at home. She was off duty after all - _or was she really ever?_ David didn't have his; all the better. A slightly inebriated man wasn't good armed. Or was he? 

The San Francisco beach was usually out in the open, exposed to whomever had eyes. Creegan led her to a place she didn't even know existed - a beach hidden by a thick grove of trees she couldn't name that was so dense, it seemed to choke the very air. It was nippy she had to admit; there wasn't a soul in sight and across the water she could see tiny pin-headed lights, all the colors of the rainbow. It was a beauty she never really took pleasure from and now she regretted it. 

She followed closely behind him, high-heeled feet sinking in the sand and yet again she questioned her morale. _Was it wrong to do something that was wrong but yet so right?_ They neared big boulders and she watched as he sat down on one of them, looking up at her and beckoning her to sit next to him with a palm raised up. The simple gesture was so meaningful as she complied, taking his hand and folded her body next to his. Realizing she was holding his hand longer than anticipated, she tugged for it back and he wouldn't respond she and looked at him. His eyes were across the water, gazing thoughtfully, lower lip pouted slightly and it was an expression she had always looked for. So she let him hold her hand resting on his thigh, his thumb rubbing absently on her knuckles - she didn't think it meant anymore than a friendly gesture. 

Whence he began to speak, it was a silent connotation for her to only listen. "I remember taking Holly here when I popped the question." Still the mention of his ex-wife stung her. "At the time I was so sure I would love her and she would love me forever, through sickness and health, thick and thin or what have you. I was 26 years old, and she was 24. One love - or according to Bob Marley." He chuckled and she smiled a bit too sadly. "So when I took the job with the federal agency, it was only because I wanted to provide for our family and to better the world in which they were coming into. Helped ol' Hank found the OSC of San Furisco. Good guy, that Hank. 

"A few months after Lily was born - _that day_ came. The gun was cocked and loaded, that much I knew once I turned around. Just that it was aimed at my head was what took me by surprise. You know what the funny thing was? I wasn't looking into the barrel, nor the perp in the tacky ski mask. I would have thought that the old me would have taken the time to study the barrel of the gun, working on some special tactic to roll away or something my stunt double would do - but that's not what happened. I was _reading_ of all the shitty things to do. Reading the single engraving _below_ the barrel. It said 'stainless.'" She turned to lay her eyes on his face as his storytelling took her back in time. He looked more amused than anything else. "_Stainless. _It was everything but. The biggest stain of my life - something the baldest Mr. Clean could never be able to get rid of. 

"In that one little moment I had gone from the sterile cop to something a little less poignant. Surprisingly I thought of nothing - like I didn't even expect to get shot - I didn't think of my wife, or my children or even myself. My mind was as blank as the white walls. Blank but with something dangerous in hiding and it all of a sudden sprung up on me when I was the most vulnerable. Everything was a blur then cut to the first time I awoke in the hospital. Funny the things one remembers." He smirked at the infamous quote coined from Hinks. "The word _stainless_ was running through my mind faster than a speeding bullet - well, apparently not fast enough." 

Finally he locked eyes with her, discovering the abnormal shine to her eyes. "So you see, you complete me Susan. I don't panic for no good reason. We're a team. Be my mother hen or my friend - just _be by my side_. You're like my left-hand man," he stumbled. "Woman." He managed to pull a smile out of her before he looked down at their joined hands; an infinite gesture of friendship and perhaps, if he was capable and if she was willing, something more. "So how about that saying, 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger'? If I remember correctly it did kill me - am I allowed to say it made me stronger?" Susan laughed heartily at that, sniffling a bit as the tension broke. 

"I don't know. I guess they meant it if it killed you permanently but you - you're just too stubborn to die." 

"Yeah, really." He smiled ironically before it faded. "You know, Holly told me she wished I died the day I was supposed to - she wasn't the only one that was pissed off Akins went after my children. Even so, I felt sorry for taking away the man she loved, for taking away the girls' father." 

She found all the more reason to dislike Holly. "You may have taken Holly's husband away but your girls will always have you as their father. Blood is thicker than a marriage band or a flimsy piece of paper." She simply added, "Holly just wasn't strong enough." _But would she have been?_

"What about love?" 

The word startled her and she blinked for a moment; she felt his eyes on her but she ignored it. "If you really believe your love for Holly is that strong then I won't stop you. But if you believe that the love you have for two souls you brought to life isn't as strong . . . then I'm going to call you a fool." 

David took to heart every single word; they were heartfelt and they were from Susan so they meant a whole lot more. He eyed the water's surface in the distance, gray-blue eyes searching. "Her face - Holly's - was the saddest face I've ever seen especially because I knew her - _thought_ I knew her. Her face was the saddest besides yours." 

She received that in retrospect. "You think I look sad?" 

"All the time. Don't take it as an insult but instead take it to heart . . . at least you _feel._ Your face can project any sort of emotion with the slightest glance better than anyone else I know. Knowing that your job hasn't left your heart hardened and indifferent but quite the opposite. That's one of the many things I admire about you, Susan." _I just wish I knew what you're carrying inside that's making you more like me._

Her throat worked and he tilted his head as he looked at her. A slight breeze blew and she shivered; that was his invitation to wrap an arm around her shoulders to her closer. She didn't shy away this time. "I've got to admit," she admitted quietly. "that's definitely not something I've been doing intentionally . . ." 

"I know. You try to hide it. You'd make a lousy actress." She nudged him with an elbow as he chuckled lightly. Taking a deep breath, he leaned a cheek against her hair and this time he could breathe in as much as he wanted. "So now you really know everything about me - can't I ever know everything about you?" 

She felt that one coming. She saw it like a train coming beyond the horizon. She weighed it, considered the hell out of it as she looked at every single fold and crease in his hand, each callused patch on his palm like a palmistry lesson. Both their hands had touched evil, but not fully grasped it and that had to mean something. They were in this together - a professional marriage. _Just . . . hold on._ "Ask me anything." 

He definitely didn't expect that. "My turn now huh . . . are you sure?" 

"Sure I'm sure." 

"Sure you're sure?" 

"David. Just ask a damn question already." 

"Okay, okay, let me think about it." She felt like she was on the verge of falling over the edge of a cliff. Closing her eyes she waited . . . and waited . . . and waited some more . . . 

"_David._" 

"Right. Um . . . what music do you listen to?" She leaned away from him to stare directly into his eyes. He thought to start with an innocent question before easing onto touchy territory. "What? It's a question and it's mine and I'm asking it." 

Sighing, Susan shook her head, comically bemused. "Jesus, heh, um . . .? Oh God, I don't know - The Police? Nine Inch Nails? Aerosmith, Depeche Mode. Um . . . If you want to go modern - Jet. Hm - the Eurythmics. Billy Idol." She began to laugh, throwing her head back and he pleasantly watched as she finally had the courage to give a piece of herself to him. "The Pet Shop Boys! Loved Domino Dancing - I used to dance with Michael before he --" Her voice was clipped short with a sharp silent pair of scissors, her eyes staring off into space - just realized the territory they were entering. 

He tightened his hand around hers. "Close your eyes Susan and just tell me. Don't think - just _say._" 

_Easier said than done._ "Can't - Can't we just go back to my apartment? It's cold." 

He revised that with a steady gaze. "Tell me _one thing_ I don't know and we'll go." _Great - another game. _Cruel yes, but it had to be done. She stared right back, silent, eyebrows drawn and was instantly labeled uncomfortable. He was doing it again. 

_Just do it. You want to. He won't judge you - this is David. He never says anything to deliberately offend you. Besides, he's tried hard not to keep anything from you while you're going all double-standard. If you don't tell him today, who knows if you ever will._

__

_You trust him._

__

_-I- trust him. _The inner turmoil within raged then dissipated. One shaking breath at a time, she managed to throw her heart out on the table, knife and all. "M-My fiancé committed suicide in a bathtub shortly after he got home from a job he hated. By then he was always a bit mentally unstable. He did it finally succeeded that day . . . he was in debt, bankrupt and . . . and . . ." She closed her eyes tightly; she felt nauseated. "Our two week old baby girl, she . . . d-died of a weak _heart." _Her voice cracked - she cracked. "He had just murdered someone in cold blood to take out his frustrations in. His life . . . full and misery as it was . . . was ended by him. I never got the chance . . . the chance to tell him I . . . I never got the chance to tell him _one last time. _" 

She couldn't meet his eyes when she began to sob. Choking sobs, the kind of sobs that wracked a person who didn't cry often - tried not to cry as much as possible and were composed even when alone. They were soft and sharp, breathy as though the emotion she felt was too strong to express in any human way. Her chest heaved with a grief he could never fully comprehend. With a gentleness that encompassed anything he had orchestrated before, he took her chin in one hand while the other touched her face, wiping her cheeks, caressing her forehead and running two fingers over her bottom lip. He felt like a blind man with his hands on the most beautiful imperfect woman with the most beautiful human heart - and he had never seen it until now hereafter she would always own a part of him. 

She trembled, shaking not from the cold. Who knew how many years she has been wracking herself of all the blame and guilt that had been heaped onto her. What with Laney, and now this guy who he had never even met. He would gladly die and stay dead if he himself were to leave her behind, but death was always the easy way out. He knew all too well. Therein lies the punch-line. 

_I complete you too._ "You wanted to know why Susan. I'll tell you why. This," His hands framed her face, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths intermixing as she continued to cry. "_This_ _is why._" 

--****

**Notes:** I derived the whole 'stainless' shpeal from seeing it on a PILOT screen-capture located at TouchingEvilFans . c o m where the shooter's pointing his gun at him, and I noticed the little words engraved into the gun. Idea popped into head and voila. :D Michael, supposed name of Branca's fiancé - I really didn't know his real name and I don't know if that is his real name or not. It just fit him - other people have named him Michael - so Michael he is. Bob or Frank just didn't make it in the cut yet he needed to be mentioned in a first-name persona. As for Creegs not telling her how he truly feels just yet, I like the fact that some people can express so much without using the word 'love.' If only there was a better word. 'Love' is just too overused nowadays. I myself wouldn't use it lightly - it's like _one of those things._ Whew. See ya'll next chap! 

**Lovely reviewers:**

asd: No. No way. You've gotta be pullin' me leggie. _Best_ Touching Evil storythere is?? LOL! As much as I want to stay humble, I'm only human man. I'm gonna take that in stride tho. Me so flattered! THANK U. 

Kaitland: I [heart] the show too. :D Thank you so much - I agree. I'm all for the Breegan-bragade! LOL 

Jennifer: Awesome that it's getting better n' better. This chap didn't have that much action, but it was a chance for the two to get closer before anything else happens that might pull them apart [spoiler!! haha]. Thanx! 

Galxychld: Hallie IS a creep. Sheesh! Haha. There's a link in my profile down below where I found a pic of a model that is how I wanted to portray Hallie. I'm glad you like the story so far! 

ColinsChick: I try - and it isn't that easy to know all the right quirks and antics that apply to Creegan 'cuz there are some people out there who make him act like he's retarded [hee]. Ah well. He's hot! TX! 

Mrs. Rhett Butler: Ah we meet again! lol Roswell huh? Never saw it. I wish I did - so many peeps have been telling me how wonderful it is. Do tell! lol Paper cuts huh? Yowch. [throws box of bandages at you] Catch! lol You were definitely right in all aspects considering Hallie=obsession. Creegan=likes to use 'fuck' or any other formof profanity. That's one reason that makes me love the guy haha. 

NBLkolt: Aw! You're too nice! Seriously. Hehe - I'm glad Hallie's labeled as a psycho. Hallie "Psycho" Piper. It's a good thing she didn't bust out a knife or something and start attacking Creegs in the shower! [Psycho music] haha. 

--> --> 


	11. BlackDrop Effect

**_Caveat:_** Touching Evil. Oh yes. Wouldn't we ALL like to own Creegan - I mean the SHOW! The show. Right. Of course, lol! Obviously I don't own it b/c I'm here writing a fanfic and whatever which is a BIG giveaway mind you . . . [throws peanut at self] Make sure your turntables are in their upright position - blah blah never been a flight attendant - falalala. Sit tight - not too tight. :D [introduction written under great state of insomnia]

**- heAven's buRning -**

by Mia - Ai-no-Tora

**Chapter Eleven: **"Black-Drop Effect"

Two worlds crossed each other that night, finding one another across a deep expanse of nothing and everything. More or less a world away. He gave her a hand up and as soon as she was on her feet, he immersed her in a large, protective hug, so warm that the whole earth seemed to melt beneath her shoes. He always loved to give hugs to those who were close to him, like the day she met him she watched with hidden amusement as he practically threw himself at Enright, their supervisor and friend.

Though something told her this particular embrace was more than just a hug. Embrace was right; he held onto her like she was going to float away somehow, a runaway balloon, slip past his arms without his permission. She wondered what gave her the thought as she gave the gift back to him, eyes shut tight and it could have been the end of the world for all she cared. Didn't matter anyway; he had something now and so did she and she was determined to keep it that way.

--

"The Earth laughs in flowers."

Susan looked over where he had bent down to pick at the sand, water drenching at his shoes. An image of her car's interior drenched with wet sand appeared in her mind and she grinned slightly. "What?"

He rose and made his way to her, taking her hand and placing in her palm a shiny white pebble. "You say that a lot." Eyebrow raise. "Oh - A quote I saw painted on a wall somewhere. I always thought that the world laughs in children."

"Yes - I think that sounds better actually." They resumed walking along the shoreline back to the car and he cleared his throat as though he were readying for an important announcement. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something." She exhaled deeply and he shook his head. "No, nothing that personal I promise."

She rubbed the pebble in her hand for good measure before putting it in her pocket. "Fine. Fire away."

"Okay." Tossing his head back, he stared up at a cloud-blanketed sky. "I was wondering why you died your hair from brown to blond around the time we were first working together and you never mentioned it - so I didn't either." He reached up and rubbed his own head for good measure and yawned.

She stopped to look at him speculatively. "You . . . You actually _remember_ that?"

"You sound surprised. C'mon, I've spent two years studying you - I think I know you well enough to go undercover, flash your badge and convincingly pass as you." He heightened the pitch in his voice, standing upright and straight, batting his eyes and talked with professional deliberation. "_'Sir, I don't think that this _David Creegan _is capable of operating well under normal circumstances.' 'Oh, _HECTOR, _do it again!'_" The Creeganisms were starting to form and take shape in the back of her mind as she glanced mischievously at him, watching as he howled with laughter at his own cleverness.

"You're right, we have been working together for far too long - so I'm going to do something you would never expect just as you do."

He moved excitedly, nearing her. "Really? I'd like to see that."

"I bet you _would!_" With all the strength she could muster, she threw her shoulder into his stomach and did a classic football move, push-dragging him toward the water and heaved him in. She jumped aside at the splash as his long body fell back first, and he sputtered in the shallow water, gawking up at her with his mouth open, hair dripping down his face.

Just looking at him made Branca want to die of laughter. And she laughed. And laughed and laughed as he got up on his feet, clothes sodden and heavy; he poked a finger in his ear and sand came out. Still she laughed at him. "Hm. Charming. Very charming." He had never seen her laugh so hard before, seeing her stumble backward and land on her butt as she took a deep breath and released another set of hearty sounds; he dripped away, still mesmerized at the woman before him.

Not one to just stand around and freeze, he slowly picked his jacket off of him and sloppily folded it, setting it down. He noticed her quieting when he tugged at his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it on top of the jacket in some slow, tantalizing strip tease. A single droplet slid down his scar, and over the ones on his cheek and she swallowed audibly. Exposed under her eyes and under the utter cold, a strong shiver clenched around him tight and he cried out with a loud _woo_ that Susan swore could be heard across the water to the city on the other side. Once he reached down for his belt, she tore off the ground and quickly picked up his clothes and gave it to him. "_David!_ What the hell do you think you're going to do, huh?"

"Funny - you ask that a lot too." He gave another cold shiver.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I ask. Now come on, put this on okay?" She opened his jacket and urged him into it.

"It's cold and full of sand."

"Would you rather go naked?"

"Yes."

Her face turned redder and she shook her head, prodding him more. "You're going to get sick! And I don't want to be seen with a naked, cold man that's getting sicker in more ways than one." Her clipped sarcasm prompted his mental stability. He enjoyed seeing her getting uncomfortable over this. He could see the red flags going up all around him, screaming _Danger! Danger Will Robinson!_

"You don't want to see me naked?"

_Danger Will Robinson!_ "No!"

An adorable pout sent her way. "I say the lady doth protest too much." He sighed and relented, slipping back on the now freezing garment. "That hurt, Detective Branca, right here," He pressed a hand over his heart and she snorted indignantly.

"I didn't know there was anything in there to hurt, now let's _go._ Hurry up."

She began walking without waiting for him to finish, hearing him chuckle behind her. "The Earth snorts in indignant, uncomfortable-with-voyeurism women!" Then he hopped right along after her.

"You don't get in that car in 10 seconds then you could just eat my dust."

"Ooh, the lady taketh a dominatrix stance." He grinned at her and she only ignored him, getting in the car and let him struggle with the locked door for a moment before she pushed the button to unlock it.

"Me thinketh the man hath too many a hole in his head," she muttered, trying to look away as he squished down on the passenger seat, flinging sand every which way.

Reaching a hand to start the car, he reached out and covered it with his own; fire on ice. Her head shot up in surprise. "Susan." Just looking into his eyes brought her knees to jello. _Make a face, or something! _She burst out loud inside at the thought of his photo on his OSC ID, his eyes crossed in a perpetual bout of humor_. _"I'm happy. I mean I'm _happy._ Not like those frozen dinners or those pre-made cake mixes, but I'm _genuinely_ happy and I . . . I thank you." His wet hair fell a bit over his forehead, water glinting off his wet skin, eyes locked in an intense gaze and she gave one nod, turning the key. He took his hand back. She turned on the heat and waited for it to warm up - not that she needed it.

"David."

"Yes, Susan."

"Buckle up."

They had walked away from anything or anyone that might have overheard; no trace of regret could be found. As Creegan side-glanced at the woman at the wheel, he couldn't think of anything to say but only the thought that she had never looked more beautiful and glowing than she did in the car at that very moment. A silent smile hidden permanently on her mouth, ready to appear when called upon. Now, when she turned and revealed it to him, her whole face seemed to beckon him to heaven, to some better place only for people like her. The moment he returned the smile, they didn't need to say it. They needn't say anything.

He was once again David version 2.0, and always would be.

Somewhere in Branca's apartment a cell phone vibrated, screen flashing, stopped and a voice came on. "This is Alex - and from the look offit, you're a bit busy. Oh, and hun . . ." A giggle. "At least this time you have it on silent. Good for you." [click] After a while it vibrated again, another caller leaving a message to no one.

--

_Midnight._

She was making cookies. No ingredients for biscottis or jam-berry pie, so he felt like a chocolate chip cookie would suit him. She got to work as he stepped into her shower, delighting in her floral-scented bathroom, the dark-green guest towels and everything else that made it all the more Susan-y. He felt closer and more at home with her than ever before, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

As she mixed the dough, she couldn't help her thoughts wandering at the fact that he was in her shower at the moment, naked as the day he was born. It was then that he began singing. "Whoa, hey! Whoa, hey! Whoa . . .hey! _Bompa-dompa-bomp - there's somethin' about you . . ._" She burst out laughing, almost spilling the contents of her bowl as she continued to listen, laughing hysterically once in a while. "_Tears me inside out whenever you're around . . . there's something about you . . . speedin' through my veins whenever we hit the ground . . . hm hm hm. . . Made me feel so good . . . I got a feeling . . . you get a feeling . . . we got a feeling . . . like we could diiiieeee - yeah! OOOH LOOOORD . . .just can't get enough . . . there's somethin' about you . . ." _

Ten minutes later he emerged, steam billowing from the bathroom as he headed half-naked toward where her dryer and washer was located. He was still humming by the time he got around to the kitchen and he flung his feet over the counter, expecting the torn hole on his jeans. She only glanced at his feet, looking quizzical. "Your socks. They're different colors." They were. Gray and white.

"Oh yeah. I think they're supposed to be that way." He took a look for himself.

"One says Reebok and the other says Nike."

"Oh. Two brand names in one. That's a good deal I'd say." Wiggled his toe for effect and she chuckled softly.

--

The house was warm and smelled utterly sweet and reminded Creegan of the gingerbread house. "See that's why they call you 'Special Agent,'" Branca wiped away the trace of cookie dough from her eyebrow Creegan had flung at her. "As in Special _Ed._"

He came up next to her, swung his hip to the side and bumped her a good two feet. "You're calling me retarded?"

She took a moment in mock consideration. "Hm. Yeah. I think I am." She turned, putting the lumps of dough on the cookie sheet before sliding them into the pre-warmed oven, closing the door and wiping her forehead, tossing the oven mitt. He sat down on the other side of the island, licking his fingers from the bowl of leftover dough she handed him, a towel wrapped atop his head from showering and he was now walking around shirtless against her protests. "Do you . . . even know what retarded means?"

Susan was looking at her cell-phone that she left on the counter near the fridge, having already listened to Alex's humorous message, she moved on to the other one. "What does it mean then, Webster?"

"It means . . ." He gestured a fork at her. "Mentally slowed or delayed." He dripped some dough onto the tile and he leaned over the counter to lick it off much to her amusement.

"That's disgusting, Creegan."

"Ten second rule."

Roll of the eyes. Another message came on and he noticed her expression change. _"Hey, this is Hector, Susan. I was wondering if - well, was it the wrong night tonight? Wrong restaurant? The Cannes right? At 7 . . . Well, I waited until 9 so um . . ." _

"Oh _shit._"

David perked up at the sound of her cursing. "What?"

_"Well, just give me a call back if you can. I'm sorry if you got caught up with something - we could always catch up another night. Good night, Susan. _[click] _If you would like to delete this message, please press 7 . . ." _

"What, Susan, what?" His face was covered with the bowl before he set it down to look at her.

"Nothing." She set down the phone, eyes staring unseeingly at her slipper-clad feet. He exhaled again, one of those that meant he already knew what was bothering her, he just wanted to hear it from her mouth.

"Sanders, wasn't it." She bit her lip. "Do you want me to go? I'll walk home if he's coming over so I can leave you two alone with your 'risky business.'"

"Stop, David. Just stop it."

The sound of the fork banging in the sink startled her with a jolt, and she set her eyes on him, his arm raised having thrown it. "I thought we were past this already," he muttered softly, eyes on the orange glow of the oven. "I thought that after I've told everything there is about me, maybe you'll start to open your eyes and see."

She closed her eyes, picturing herself in the wide expanse of a field of flowers. "What exactly am I supposed to see?" She opened her eyes and stared at him, blue eyes bright. "And what about you? I'm not the only one who's keeping secrets."

"Secrets? What the hell are you talking about?" She crossed her arms and huffed, gripping onto her arms.

"Hallie? I hear things that I'm probably not supposed to. You and her . . . seriously David, I thought -"

"What? What did you think? That we're sleeping together?" The barrier had been plowed through and now they were trampling through taboo land. Something had caught in her chest like a hook and reeled her in.

She could play this game too and pretend it didn't hurt like hell. "Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Sleeping together. Not that it's any of my business - you can sleep with whomever you want! I'll just let you know something." She was crying again though she shed not a tear. This wasn't supposed to happen. She gave her heart to him that night and now she was seemingly setting it on fire. _I've done enough. It's got to end somewhere._ "I can't be in love with someone who doesn't love me. Everything changes, everything falls apart - like _I_ fall apart. Every day after I see you, I go home and tell myself why I feel so stupid, why you're the only one . . . that . . . " She placed a hand over her mouth. _Oh God, shut up already! That was too much as it is._

A long, deep heart-wrenching exhale of breath on his part, his voice steady, carefully choosing his words. "You do know I have a hole in my head, right? Okay. The first time I met you, I was cutting my hair. It was the first time since my time in the nut-house that my breath was taken away because of a beautiful woman that was going to be my colleague. Cut to the airplane trip to Denver - I realized you weren't just another pretty face. I told you what everyone else seemed to have known - except for one thing. I joked with you, Susan. I wanted to make you smile, I wanted to see you laugh. It made me _happy._ So much so that I threw a peanut at myself, then promptly started stripping and reciting _Tiger, Tiger_ in the middle of the aisle. I would have continued if the flight attendant would have just kept her mouth shut.

"The one-year anniversary at the Tiki-Bar - I wasn't that plowed to still remember your hand on my lips, on my shoulder. Telling me you're actually human and do feel utterly human at the end of the day. I saw you looking at me when Bernal had me in a head-lock - everything died away because of that look - and that was the reason why I threw Bernal to the ground because I couldn't stand the thought of losing in front you. Plus I noticed that Rivers also realized that you were something else, something he'd also like to have."

He held up a hand, finger pointing in the air to make a point as he swallowed. "Boston. I can still feel your hand on my thigh." She tried hard to keep silent. "I nearly sang when I heard a hint of your strict Catholic background because you told me something personal. I killed Stentz. In my head anyway; just seeing his eyes roving over you made me kill him in my heart. I would have killed him - but you . . . if it had been anyone but you that stopped me, I would have. It didn't bother my conscience in the last bit to kill to protect you - like I've done so many times before even if I didn't have to. That Stentz . . . a huge part of me felt so sorry for him for losing all that he had but . . . just the fact that he came after you _pissed me off_. Just like Akins with my daughters." The confession left her speechless, the memories submerging to haunt her. "The time when you brought back my girls. I knew it wasn't only Hank in on it. The second I saw _that look_ in your eyes, I knew. You were the big piece of the jigsaw puzzle. Now that I look back on it, you saw me with my girls, my . . . _family_ for lack of a better word, and now I knew how it broke your heart and put it back together again at the same time. Now I knew you had more than one reason as to why you wanted to bring them back, for your peace of mind as it was for mine."

Deftly removing the towel off his head and rising from the stool, walking around the island toward her and she froze when he came to stand in front of her. She tried to look at anything but his eyes and his smooth chest, the sparse little hairs between his pectorals, his cute bellybutton, the gentle lines disappearing into his waist line.

Suddenly he was near - too near. He had leaned down, hands on either side of her and she felt his lips at the corner of hers, indescribably soft and intimate like silk - a lightning bolt struck her when she felt a flick of his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut and his lashes tickled at her. A small gasp left her as she stared tremblingly up at him, at a loss for words. _Did that count as a kiss . . .? _Unbidden, her hand came up to slap him, push him away, anything - but he caught her hand before it could do any damage. She cursed in Ukrainian and he smiled.

Leaning back, he whispered and she had to strain to hear him. "Dough," he said, a finger tracing her jaw. "On your lip. You should really speak more Ukrainian . . . it's sexy."

_Please don't . . ._ " . . . stop." She looked so helpless, a fallen angel with a broken wing.

_You don't know so many things, Susan. _"Did you know," He went on like he didn't hear her, fingers tracing her delicate collarbone. "That the things you own may end up owning you?" He bent again to kiss her jaw, her cheek. "Did you know that Retsina is a Greek wine flavored with pine resin?" She swallowed, shivering at the feel of his lips on her eyelid and on her temple. "Did you know that film doesn't come all in one reel, but by small amounts of frames at a time, and the one who puts them together is called a projectionist?" His hand came up to hold the back of her neck, the other on her waist and hip. She closed her eyes as though if she did, it would all go away, everything would just flood back into its original form. But the trouble was . . . she didn't want it to. "Do you know that the black-drop effect is what shapes Venus into a teardrop as it approaches and leaves the sun, occurring every 122 years?" He breathed into her ear and she fought not to whimper, to give in to this incredulous act of romanticism hinted with facts and information that had nothing to do with him nor her. "You're my black-drop effect, Susan. I have you, and then you're gone . . . and I wait far too long to get you back . . . _I want to kiss you like the sun kisses Venus with its warmth._"

She could hear her heart beating so loud like a drum near her ear, before his mouth closed over hers and she fell. Who was she kidding - she had already fallen. The touch seared her beyond recognition, a single tear falling down the side of her face. This was a dream waiting to happen. So many times had she imagined kissing him, feeling those lips blanketing hers, fantasizing their texture and feel and pinching herself every time to snap out of it any time he would notice her zoning off. _Does he know? Does he . . .?_

Her hands came up and set on his chest but she didn't push him away. He brought her closer, his mouth tilting on hers to deepen an emotion that was altogether different because this was David, and this was Susan. Her lips were as tender and moist and sweet as a ripened strawberry on a summer day; he could see a butterfly dancing behind his eyelids. Two years . . . two years was a lifetime to wait for someone you loved. She wasn't resisting him and that fact alone made him want to hold on for dear life.

_My black-drop effect. My furious angel. My Susan. This is why._

He only pulled away as she inhaled sweet-smelling air, eyes shining yet glazed, mouth swollen when he looked intensely down at her. "Do you know, Susan? Do you know now?" He felt like he wanted to cry, something to show her just how incredibly paramount this moment was for him, a flashbulb memory. "You. No one else. Not Hallie, never Hallie. Do you get it now?"

Her throat hitched and she nodded quickly, shaking off a stray tear. "Yes. Yes. I get it. Okay. Not Hector, never Hector."

He brought her close again, hugging her to him like a postage stamp. "Good . . . Good. Good." The cookies baked, the whole apartment warm.

Outside, the world and all its bittersweet imperfections, went on.

--

_Thursday morning._

The sun that sneaked in through the blinds was a warm gold, promising a perfect morning. David Creegan shifted under a warm duvet, and this time he hadn't woken from a bad dream or some haunting nightmare he could never decipher. In fact, it was the greatest most restful sleep he'd ever experienced in years. He wasn't in his apartment, his beer can covered bed wasn't underneath him. It didn't even smell like beer; it smelled of lilies and gardenias. _Susan . . . Susan means 'lily.' _The thought was quite random; he remembered seeing the description in a baby-name book and where he had derived Lily's name from. He never realized why he had given Susan a bouquet of lilies until now.

A buzzing, vibrating against his hip and he started with a jerk, grabbing at the intrusion and flipping it open. "Creegan," he muttered , a hand on his forehead.

"Where are you man? You do know that you don't have weekdays off, right?" Mark Rivers' voice hummed from the phone and he groaned in complaint. "Or did you want to be able to catch the early morning cartoons?"

"Oh, you know I do. I'll . . . be there in a jiff." He stayed where he was.

"Hm, that's weird . . ."

"What."

"Branca isn't here either." Slowly, ever so slowly a smile appeared on David's face, eyes closed and he grinned rather stupidly when he felt a warm figure stir next to him on the bed.

"I wonder where she is. I'll give her a call." Susan blinked awake next to him, having listened to the whole conversation since David was a bit hard of hearing and had the phone's volume up all the way. She gave him a scolding glance as he sat up to wink at her.

"All right then, just get over here. Hausen's ex has been brought in - he was found down in San Diego illegally trading stolen vehicle parts." Rivers sighed; apparently his morning wasn't as decent. "He's keeping a tight lid and won't say nothing to nobody until he could get a lawyer present. If we can't bag him for illegal sales than we can get him for obstruction of justice if nothing else."

Work, work, work. Creegan rubbed at his eyes, exhaling and blowing a raspberry. "All right, give me at least 15 minutes." He flipped his cell closed before he turned to look at Branca. She looked the greatest when she had just woken up and he told her so. "You look the greatest when you just wake up."

She groaned and tossed a pillow at him, promptly hitting his face. "Thanks. Meaning I look pretty much like hell the rest of the time."

He grinned widely, reaching down and patting her head. "Hell can't compare with you, believe me I know." He paused, then asked, "By the way, did we sleep together?"

She shook her head in amusement, light dancing in her eyes as she smiled. "Yes we did."

An eyebrow raise - he seemed dubious about something. "Did we _sleep_ together?"

"Nope." She set her comforter aside before leaving him there to stare at where she used to be, her lavender pajamas gone from his sight.

"Damn."

--

_Green's Hospital. Cancer ward._

Once she opened her eyes, she couldn't recognize where she was until her eyes fell on a particularly pale face on the bed. He breathed slowly, the soul within struggling to be released. Her chest hurt and she wanted to cry. Why was it that she always found herself here? Her right foot ached and she looked down, surprised to see she had on only one shoe. To make it even more odd, she was also standing there in her white nightgown.

Her eyes trailed over her arms, studying the dirt smears and her head hurt as though she had just smacked it on something very hard. Panic arose within her as she leaned against Danny's bed. _This wasn't happening . . . why can't I remember . . .?!_ How she got there, she didn't know, and her right foot had left faint trails of blood from the doorway. She had walked from to and from somewhere, she just _couldn't remember._

--

_OSC Interrogation room._

Flipping closed his cell-phone, Agent Rivers used both hands to set on the table, bent close so that he was face-to-face with the suspect who was at the moment confidently sucking on a cigarette. "You're in trouble, cancer-stick man," Lucas Miller raised an eyebrow at the casual approach. "All you have to do is answer some questions and maybe we could strike a deal." Even if there was no lawyer present, it wasn't his fault that this guy was going to crack no matter what. He punched the record button on the tape player. "Thursday, 6th of February . . . 9:39 A.M. Agent Mark Rivers interviewing Lucas Miller without his legal representative present." He set down two pictures on the desk before the suspect, one of Athena Hausen and the other of Vallerie Snider. He wasn't sure whether or not to have Agent Rodriguez's picture down - he figured it would come later.

Lucas rolled his eyes at the professionalism that choked the air as he tried to ignore Athena's picture smiling up at him. He flicked aside the cig stub before slamming a hand on the table. "I already told you - I left Athena even before the Vallerie died. I don't even see why I'm here."

"You know, there's an ashtray over there." He motioned with his head, chuckled with a hint of pity as he leaned back to pace. "Well, Mr. Miller, your alibi doesn't check out on the night of _Athena's_ murder. Can you explain where you were on the night of January 3rd? No? Then you're jail bait." His eyes narrowed as he focused on Lucas. "Your poor grandmother will have to hear about this. It'll break her little heart, God bless her."

Swiping aside his shoulder-length black hair, Lucas bit his lip in consternation. "Jesus Christ, can't you just leave my grandmother out of this?"

Rivers shrugged, trying not to laugh out loud. "It isn't my fault you've lived with her for over 10 years. She must think you're her golden boy, doesn't she? 'Lucas never does _anything_ wrong,' 'Lucas is as sweet as cherry pie.' Oh yeah, I'd say she adores you from what I got out of her; she thinks you're a saint." He returned to his spot in front of the suspect, using his honed interrogation skills. "You give me something that'll help me out, and we'll keep this one out of the record - sparing your granny's ears in the process. What do you say?"

From the other side of the glass in the viewing room, Bernal shook his head at the way the suspect was being handled, like a buddy betting on a race horse.

There was a slight hesitation filled with silence, the air growing stale as every second passed by. Rivers reminded him of such. "The hour-glass is almost empty, Lucas. Do you really want gran to know all about your naughtiness on her death bed?"

"All right! Okay . . ." Rivers fought a smile as he finally broke down the Berlin wall. "Anyway, you're asking the wrong person. You should check on Athena's and Vallerie's old employers."

"You don't think we've done that already?"

"Just listen for a goddamn minute!" Lucas' nostrils flared. "There was a reason I left Athena. She began sleeping with one of her employers - she took care of their house while she got sex and money as a payment. They - the homeowners - they didn't even go on vacation, they just made it seem like they were. I returned the favor when the wife of the homeowner who was sleeping with Athena offered to sleep with me. She asked me the weirdest things - she asked if I ever killed anyone indirectly. I told her I never tried. Then she asked if I could teach her how the breaks on a car were made to fail if one wanted. So I . . . I taught her." He covered his face with his hands, voice breaking as it rose. "I . . . I didn't _know_ she was serious and would actually _kill_ anyone! I swear to fucking God, I didn't know . I just wanted to get back at Athena . . . She offered to off Athena for me - but then Vallerie overheard and the next thing I knew, she was dead. I was long gone by then, I swear!"

Rivers glanced at the window where he knew Bernal to be, communicating a silent message. Taking a deep breath, he cast a wary glance at Lucas who was now falling apart. Beefy men weren't all muscle, he'd come to know. "What is this wife's name anyway?"

Lucas looked up slightly. "Helene. Helene Townsend. She's fucking nuts . . . in the small time I knew her, I knew there was something not quite right. She was a little off."

"Hey, I've had my share of friends who were a little off," Rivers commented as he drew to a close. "Interview terminated at precisely 9:50 A.M." Stopping the recorder then signaling to Bernal, he flipped open his cell and walked out of the room as someone picked up on the other line.

"Swopes."

"Yo Swopes," Rivers strode toward the lab where he knew the technician called home. "I need you to do a few things for me."

--

_Susan Branca Apartment._

Grabbing an egg out of the fridge, fully-dressed Creegan poked a hole into it, removing the single shard of eggshell and drank the egg raw. Branca, who watched him from the kitchen table, gagged a little on her fried egg. "That's . . . _gross_, David."

"No grease, no fat, more muscle my dear." He chucked it in the garbage disposal before his cell-phone rang once again, having turned it from silent. Growling loudly, he grabbed it from his pocket and hastily flipped it open. "_What, _Marky-Mark, what?!"

"I know where you aaaare," Rivers cooed in a teasing _neener-neener_ tune.

Creegan raised an eyebrow as he plucked a cookie from the plate on the table, glancing at Branca as he did so. "Yeah? So?"

"I had Swopes track your cell-phone address. Technology is sweet these days, isn't it. Say hi to Susan for me you unadulterated piece of slime."

"What do you want? I'll be there in a bit, you don't have to miss me that much." He bit off half the cookie before going to the fridge and hounding on the milk. Susan groaned when he chugged straight out of the carton.

"I don't really need you anymore, bub. I got Miller to crack - and guess what I found out."

"You're pregnant."

"Guess again. No don't - your vic girlfriend is the key to all locked treasure chests."

Creegan put the carton of milk back, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve as he inclined his ear further into his shoulder where his phone was pressed. "The fuck are you talking about? She's not my -"

"You ready for this? Helene Townsend. That's her maiden name, Creegan. Hallie Piper was her name when she married. She stuck by it - Swopes found black fibers on Rodriguez's neck. Also - Ah hell, I'll come get you. Okay? I'm on my way over there now. Have Branca catch up with you later - this is a sure fire way to get that fat promotion you've been waiting for."

"For fuck's sake, I don't care about any promotion. A one up in the death business isn't my bowl of fatty popcorn."

"Either way, I'm coming to get you."

"Piss off, Mark. Bye." [click] He turned toward Branca with eyes crossed. "I swear I was just drafted by Mister Rivers 'cuz he wants _me!_" She rolled her eyes in response, finishing her breakfast.

"So he's coming to get you, hm?"

"He's always coming to get me." He went over to her and bent to kiss the top of her head. She stopped in mid chew to stare up at him. "Tell me I'm sexy in Ukrainian, _pleeeeeaaaase?"_

She swatted him away, laughing. "Like you said: piss off!"

He drew away in faux pain, snubbing her off. "Hmph! I don't like European women _anyway_." He strode toward the bathroom, her joyful laughter echoing throughout the house. He realized he could die happy just hearing it.

_6 minutes later._

Three consecutive loud honks of a car horn made Susan drop her chapstick as she made her way to the front door. "Creegan, your boyfriend's here."

"Please, Mum, he's just a friend," He replied in a girly voice before he engulfed her in a warm hug. "I'm going to miss you as soon as I walk out your door. I'm going to miss you until I see you again."

She felt choked up again and it made her want to laugh. "David . . ." She hugged him back. "Come on, just shut up and walk away already."

He leaned back and looked as though he was going to kiss her and she waited with dread and joy that he just might. "Did you know that Susan means 'lily'?"

Images of the bouquet that was already wilted at her office flashed through her mind; a baby name book opened to the girl's section - a small bundle of joy in her arms. She blinked it all away, her voice quiet and steady. "Yes. I named my daughter Lily . . . just like you named yours."

Another three honks from the impatient Rivers shook them from their reverie. He didn't stop staring at her with that look in his eyes though. "We aren't through - we're going to finish this," He whispered before kissing her cheek. "I'll see you later." She nodded and he opened the door, walked through it and headed for Mark's silver Honda. He only looked back once and that's all it took for her to want to go back inside and break down again. But she wasn't going to. She made a promise. Mark waved and she waved back before they were gone.

It was a bright sunny day in a world so full of tears.

Grabbing her purse and shrugging on a cream-colored blouse and a pressed pair of slate slacks, square-toed pumps, she got out her keys and locked her door behind her. She spied on a white shoe near her car and she kicked it off toward the road before getting into her car and starting it. She had forgotten to arm her car and she kicked herself for it.

Everything was winding down to that very moment. _I'll miss you until the next time I see you._

Susan backed up the car, on the road as she flipped on the radio. Someone behind her honked and she realized she was going under the speed limit so she pressed on the gas a bit more. An intersection was quickly speeding up. Some Sonic Youth song was playing.

_You're the one . . . You're the one . . .Heat seeking missile freak . . ._

She checked her reflection in the mirror for a moment before pressing down on the brakes. The stoplight kept coming faster than ever. Eyebrows drew together; she glanced at the speedometer. _35 . . . 40 . . . 45 . . . _

_I will know it - you I will show it . . ._

White knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel. The intersection was crowded. A couple skipping high school kids were walking along the sidewalk, and on the other was a pregnant woman with a stroller. Susan's eyes widened, heart going up to her throat, lungs tightening, desperately trying to hook her foot underneath the pedal in hopes of getting out of this alive. The car seemed hell bent, frozen in its fast momentum.

_Black magic scared to sleep . . . I will know it you I will show it . . .Will you buy me a shaky heart . . ._

SPEED 35. The sign sped by her, a blur of black and white. There were colors all around . . . pale blues, dark reds, black and cream white. Buildings came and went through her window. There was no David. There was no Michael. There was no one but strangers in a world she had never known but lived in for over 30 years.

Breath stopped, her heart halting. Her hands came up to shield her as her car collided with the first car - a truck - that was coming through the intersection at precisely 50 miles per hour. The sound of rending metal, the bashing of some kind of material against her head, a scream cutting through the air and deafening her - a scream she realized was coming from her mouth.

Only a minor pain took hold of her as she was thrown forward; whiplashed. It was such a bright world with such dark shadows. She fell into one, spinning around and around - bright red obscured her vision . . . then there was nothing - the music cut abruptly; she was no longer a solid Susan but a Susan that had cracked and broke before she even got home.

_Don't go Susan. Don't go to heaven. Something's burning . . ._

_I want to kiss you like the sun kisses Venus with its warmth. This is why._

_I . . . you . . . David._

_--_

Creegan felt something as he looked in the side view mirror at Branca's house growing smaller - he couldn't explain what it was. It was the same feeling he had just before he came to that house . . . the white house with the white cat . . . tacky ski-mask perp. His heart beat faster and faster and it grew stronger as Mark was saying something about the case.

_Stainless. Stainless. Stainless. Black fiber. _An image flashed of a shoe near Branca's car. _Vehicle break failure._

" . . . he made a plea bargain to . . ."

_Stainless. Stainless. Black-Drop Effect. Furious Angel. Susan means 'lily.' Dolce and Gabbana perfume. Black gloves. The expensive designer dress somewhere in his apartment._ _No one could afford that with such a meager salary - someone would have had to kill to get something like that._

His hands gripped his thighs, palms growing clammy and finally Rivers noticed his abnormal state. "Hey man, something wrong?" They had just pulled into the OSC Headquarters and he wanted to scream.

"Go back."

Rivers opened his car door and stopped. "What . . .?"

"Go _back._" _This is why this is why this is why this is why . . . _His scar throbbed right along with his heart.

"Why? What the hell for? We're already here -"

Creegan lunged for Rivers' jacket, dragging him forcefully back in and setting his face right in front of the agent's. "_Now. _Go backNOW."

Rivers studied him for only a second, taking in what exactly was being asked of him. Seeing that look on his face and he knew better than to question anything else. "All right man, we're going." He closed the door, started the engine and floored it.

--

**Notes:** OK so there's chappie 11! I think we're about 3/4's done with this story. Wrapping up my first TE fic will bring a few tears to the eye, [sniff!] Someday I'll write a rather shippy Breegan fic [not that this wasn't lol] - and if others would like, there's always a Rivanca (Rivers-Branca) plot that's waiting to be spoiled. :D I didn't come up with that term, it was in the TE forum!! It wasn't me I tell you! haha. Okidoke! I wish I could've gotten to see when Venus passed over the sun, but I didn't know about it until recently. I love eclipses, anything of the like, etcetera. Don't want to become an astrologist or an astronomer or anything, though. Terms and different definitions are hard to come by at times - makes me almost wish for a beta reader. Eh.

**My Goddess! _Somebody_ like chapter 10! lol:**

NBLkolt: My God . . . I am so FRIGGIN' HAPPY at all the reviews you gave me. _Jesus le Christ . . ._ I loved every single one of them. You actually gave me a very good review, with some critique but a good critique! I love a good critiquing!! Jeezus, how can I thank you?? Wait, don't answer that, lol, I think you'll say, 'by writing more chapters!' Haha! It amazes me so much how anyone [besides me] can stand reading my stories more than once. Ah. OH! You read my mind - are you psychic?! Because as soon as I read your review about Susan's name meaning lily, and that it was in the recent chapter, it was spooky! Your mentioning it had great timing! Holy flaming cow. Not a coincidence - but woohoo - that was a great psychic experience! lol Thank you so much again.

Yellow Mellow: Wow, I thought 6 pages was long enough but hey, if you want longer, I'll give ya longer! LOL Thank you so much. Stay mellow. Peace.

Galxychld: LOL I love how you notice the little-big things! About Susan and baking and slapping and holding a gun. Very sharp eye you have there. :D Yes, even though they try to deny it, they do love each other - in my fic anyway lol! Susan just about gave it away in this chapter but David didn't make her spit it out. I like it that way. Makes more room to come out with it later. ;D

GeorgieQ: You've read this story more than once?! Holy crap. Another frivolous reader, lol! How do you do it, I just wanna know, haha. I can't stand reading my stories more than like, two times - I just write out the chapters and if I need to go back to look something up for a reference, that's the only time I do reread something.

Self Injured: Hey, I got your e-mail! Man, I wish you the VERY best get-well wishes of all time. Man. I wouldn't be able to stand being in bed for that long - I'd crawl if I have to, learn how to pop a wheelie in a wheelchair, trip people with my crutches. You take it easy, you hear me? Don't walk it off like some people try to, haha! Oh and yes. I forgive ye.

VivianAeryn: Jumping up and down? Wow, don't break your chair lol. Oh, and Aeryn - I love that spelling! I might name my kid that someday. Either that or Michaela - but my sister's planning on a babe next year so if it's a girl, she's stealing that name. :D ah well. Good for her. Thanx for reading!

Jenna: All right! I hope you survived - seems like a lifetime since I updated, doesn't it?? LOL It does to me actually. Sorry it took so long sweetie! I hope you enjoyed the sugary Creeganca sweetness!

SassyAngel05: I am so HONORED that you took the time to hit that review button and type a paragraph for me. I hate making people review, so I do feel special to get one from you! I'd love to read one of your fics - and I wouldn't worry about capturing their characters too much. Just work off of the show and what other people represent Creegan as, or even Branca. Heck, I'll even help you, haha. I haven't even seen the Pilot episode, or Justine, or . . . ah, can't remember, but yeah! lol Thanx again for your review, I appreciated it a lot.

Hockey Gurl: I'm sorry I ended it there! I hope this long, agonizing chapter more than makes up for it! Thank you for reviewing!!

Kaitland: I'm glad you agree with me about the word love. Michael . . . hm, well, it wasn't really my idea, just that everyone seemed to have called him Michael, and I don't recall ever hearing his name mentioned but I thought it must have slipped past me, that his real name was probably Michael. So there he is. LOL Damn you know too much of the Hallie ruining the Breeganesque moment! Aye carumba.

Jennifer: I hope you liked this action, lol! I have to be able to watch more TE episodes to measure their romantic level . . . so for now they aren't going to bed one another in some angst-filled one-night stand just because. Hm. I'm so considering it for another fic though.

Alamo Girl: Two reviews! Sheesh, there ya go again! lol Thank you so much that you liked Chapter 10. I wasn't sure anyone would buy it as readily, but I'm so glad you did! And wow . . . you almost cried? I'd have to be on a very emotional day for me to cry from a fic. Haha, I'm glad you liked the coffee scene. Sexy? Yeah, sad sexy more like. I would PAY and then some for that to happen on the show. Holy God, would I!! LOL Thanks again - I was looking out for you again so here you go!

Mrs. Rhett Butler: Flattered am I! Wow, my best chapter yet?? Jeezus haha! I'm SO glad you think so. I think my personal fave is . . . Hm . . . Probably Chapter 9: Pretty Devil - or even Chapter 6: Male-Bonding Experience with Rivers 'cuz I think he's a great guy, the camaraderie between Creegan and Rivers is just as good as Jeffrey Donovan's and Bradley Cooper's. Chapter 10 would come in pretty good right about then, haha. I'm sorry about your paper cuts! Well, you know what they say, no pain no gain [personally I think 'they' are full of it]. I'll probably look up Roswell once I get the time [probably tomorrow haha since I'm currently unemployed]. Thank you again for reviewing, you seem like an awesome person from what I saw of your profile page, and those pictures you have of you and your friends. Oh yes - I do my research, mm-hm! ;-D

asd: I'm so glad you loved it! I know, I know, I ended it like that 'cuz I thought it was getting too long. :D I guess I was wrong, huh? Ah well. This one's twice as long. I hope you liked it. Can't wait for your approval! LOL Peace.


	12. Creation of Destruction

**_Caveat:_** Disclaimer on all Touching Evil prospects. I shall wreak havoc if they do not renew for a second season though God help me... Saw 28 Days Later . . . Cillian Murphy owns the shower scene, yesiree. Hope you guys like this chapter - it's second to the last, sadly enough. :-( Early huh? I know. Ah, but I'm beginning another one! The TE forum was hankering for something smutty . . . well, Smee, I do believe I have somethin' cookin' up! No, I don't write smut on a regular basis, it'll be my first so don't prejudge me, grr. I do bite, oh, and do I bite hard hee. Sorry for the long wait! 

**- Heaven's Burning -**

by Mia [Ai-no-Tora] 

**Chapter Twelve:** Creation of Destruction 

Mark Rivers never knew he would be witness to David Creegan's tears. The first time he actually saw it was in the backyard of the old Creegan family residence which was on the market with much too much reluctance on the owners' part. He never knew that death and the utter reality of life could strike a person so strongly, not until Ben's death - could a person that was a man, a man that was considered "great" in his line of work, a man that held utmost importance in a community be harangued by fear or something far colder. 

They sped down the residential road, his lead foot up against all other high standpoints of authority. A storm was brewing in what was thought to be the start of a beautiful day. Thunder crashed and reverberated through deep within their beings, as though to say _You've built all these things; but who are _you_? Destruction is far more easier to create than creation itself. _Rivers was slowly catching on to this. He too could feel it growing and kneading within where the light could not reach. It mourned of a great love lost somewhere where it was far too easy to follow. 

They were coming up onto an intersection, and once he caught on his irises dilated, directing toward what hurt the most. 

At first the flames didn't register with Creegan. A guess of something malfunctioning with his vision; a trick of the mind. But twenty feet away as Rivers stopped the car - he hopping out before the vehicle had come to a complete stop - was when the coldest of cold fears froze his limbs and stopped his heart. Smoke furled all around, coating his lungs and blackening the sky. Destruction was rampant here yet unwanted; in the distance someone was screaming, a piercing, hollowed scream as torn as a gunshot. 

He took two steps forward, a third, a fourth. Breath came in uneven - he couldn't even remember why he was breathing. His closed fists were shaking. A bead of cold sweat rolled past his left eye and he didn't even acknowledge its shadow. Severe denial was flowing through his veins and pounding heavily in his hands, his temples, his chest. A baby was crying in its stroller as flashing lights, red-blue-red-blue, brightened and darkened everything before him. He wanted to be the baby, detached from this hell; safe without the history to truly mourn over. 

_The Earth laughs in children._

__

__Rivers stepped beside Creegan, mouth agape, a terror-stricken expression on his face. Susan's black Infiniti - or what looked like Susan's black Infiniti - stood on its front bumper at such an odd angle, scrunched like a soda can. Underneath it was a dark green SUV and in the front was a red pick-up. Something caught Rivers' eye - a license plate about ten feet away, mangled and bent but he was sure of it; it belonged on the front of Branca's car. He shakily drew a breath, glancing at Creegan and even then he didn't think it was possible to be even more horrified. 

Before he could say something, his friend tore loose from his spot like a bullet fired. "_Creegan!_" Rivers didn't know why he was trying - were he in his position, he would have been there already. 

Emotions furling in a habitual liquid cool that burned within his equilibrium, he barely breathed; adrenaline was faster than tears and anger. It came up so fast - he merely had to blink once and he was there, pulling apart the ripped metal and the torn vehicle that threatened to fall over any minute. There was no time to worry, no time to spare as precious seconds ticked and his hands bleeding from scratches he didn't even know were there. All he knew was that she was bleeding more than he was, inside and out. 

The door wouldn't budge, frozen in its permanent state and as hard as it was to change the goings-on in a picture, a cry tore itself from the depths of Creegan's awareness, all his strength concentrated on pulling the door open, to get to what was inside. Finally with one final heave, it gave way, the sound of metal on metal echoing as though underwater. Someone yelled at him to back away. Something about gas leaking and that he had to run. Not without her. Never without her. Moving around the glass, Creegan found her slumped to the right over the gear shift like a wet towel, the strap across her chest holding her stationary like a puppet, draped so limply he couldn't help but fear the most. 

_But you, you're just too stubborn to die._

Creegan couldn't quite see her face, but he spied upon a trickle of blood coming from her scalp down behind her ear and disappearing into her shirt collar. Suddenly a sharp piece of something was in his hand; he ran it along the seat-belt until it snapped. Susan's body - a shudder unconsciously convulsed through him - pitched a bit more forward onto the dashboard. Everything seemed heightened thus far; from the lights, the sounds, the emotions, the very air crackling around him, he moved forward and with such gentleness that seemed impossible to acquire even with him, he hooked his arm under her legs, the other around her torso as he carefully extracted her from the car. 

_You're not supposed to move the body . . ._

_Shit._ But did that really matter. He wouldn't, for the life of him, leave her in the ticking time bomb of a car. He wouldn't, for his old life back, would he stand around and _wait_ for someone else to rescue her. Nobody waits for something like that, no matter how much patience was a virtue. 

Rivers ran toward Creegan, a hand on his back and somehow trying to help him with Susan while making their retreat, running as far away as they possibly could - before what felt like a blast of something hot and solid hit them from behind. Creegan stumbled forward but managed to cover Susan by tucking her head into his chest, kneeling on the ground with Rivers beside him as the explosion of the vehicle threatened to harm more. Several pieces of debris flew past them, over them, on them but to no fatal degree. With the flames subsiding, Rivers looked up to see an ambulance through the all the smoke and distortion, could hear sirens what sounded like a mile away before he remembered, looking toward Creegan and his small burden. 

Setting her down on the pavement as gently as he could, Creegan, for once, knew what it was like to be on the sidelines, to be the one watching someone else fight for something they knew they should. His hand smoothed out her hair from her face, the blood warm and slick on his fingertips. She had no expression on her face but one of peace and security, as though she knew who was watching over her at the moment and had lost all the care in the world. A single droplet of rain - no, David's tear - fell on her cheek and rolled away the grime, dirt, make-up and blood. His hand found hers, hoping she could feel him too. Something so pure yet so touched. 

_I've fought like hell not to let Evil touch you. It doesn't deserve you, Susan. _I_ don't deserve you. _A heart wrenching sob poured from his mouth without his notice. _Don't leave me behind . . . Now that I found you, I can't . . . I can't lose you again. Don't let me live without you. Don't. Don't._ He didn't realize the words were coming from his own lips, not stationary in the abyss of his mind and heart. He didn't care; no one should. "_Please . . ._ open your eyes . . . just once - _I want to see your beautiful eyes . . ._" 

Rivers watched as his friend, part-time partner and colleague break down before him, his face a mixture of anguish, pain, suffering and grief. For once he really knew the meaning of when they said there was nothing that held David Creegan's emotions in check. This was a man that held all the right in the world to cry, to let go of any other inhibitions that might have held him back. He leant a hand on his shoulder, not knowing quite what to do, tears forming in his own eyes at the threat of a loss so great. _We're all just a puddle of tears and earth, aren't we? Mud. That's what we are._

Paramedics came swiftly yet not swiftly enough; diving and swooping upon Susan like crows upon a carcass. Someone was trying to pull David away by the shoulders, and with an anguished territorial growl, he batted the hands away and they knew not to force him at this time. Even so, he let them take her upon a gurney, rolling her away and with him not far behind, still holding her hand until somehow he lost the grip - perhaps it was the blood or sweat or tears - but her small hand slipped away from the confinement of his. The white doors opened, they lifted her onto the emergency vehicle. Time swept them all and carried them away in an onslaught of life and death. Mark held David back, even if he did want to go with her to the hospital but he knew it wasn't right yet, gently coercing him to stay. If she were to die right in front of David, there was nothing that was safe around him. 

Dark gray-blue eyes burned. focused on the ambulance as it drove away into the horizon of clouds, into everything foreign yet familiar. She was leaving him. No - she was being taken away. The most beautiful imperfect lily was being picked from the earth to somewhere better. 

_How many people will you have to watch drive away_ _David, before it ends? Will it ever?_

__

__"No," He breathed. Mark glanced at him. "It'll never end. It never does." 

-- 

The hospital room was dark - a tinge of blue, the smell of sterile bed-sheets and rubber gloves hung in the air. Creegan had driven Rivers' car without so much as a word between them as they chased the ambulance, running two red lights and one near run-in with a semi, almost beating the ambulance to the hospital in result. 

Now this was the part that came as a blur, a flurry of movement as though someone was filming the whole thing on long-exposure. Lights left bright trails in his eyes; voices heightened and lowered in sporadic intervals. Creegan followed after the doctors and nurses, directly if not on their heels as someone was trying their best to apply his own much needed medical attention for his hands which were cut and swollen. 

Nurses - doctors - _people_ were barking orders. She had lost a tremendous amount of blood and wasn't getting any better. The doors were closed on him before he could slip by, a fist slamming against the small square windows where he could see them cutting away at Susan's clothes, covering her mouth with an air mask, her heart-monitor hooked up and he could barely see the lines leaping barely. 

That's when he heard it. 

He knew he'd heard the sound before; it brought on the feelings he'd no sooner would want to forget but were not forgotten, could not be forgotten. Susan's heart-monitor beeped once more before it flat-lined, the alarming noise loud and clear. Panic coursed through him like never before. The tension heightened and he made for the door handle, pulling at it before Rivers came up from behind, holding him at bay. "No! Let me go -" He thrashed at him, and Mark tried his best not to hurt him as he signaled for a nurse to lock the door to the room. Suddenly he broke free and turned on him, as though his touch set him on fire. "Susan's _dying_ in there, Rivers!" He angrily spat. "What the _fuck_ do you think I'm going to do - just stand around like an office plant?! She -" 

"You won't be able to help her if you're like that," said Mark, his voice patient, face softened. Creegan looked at him as though he were the crazy one here. "Don't you think you can help her more by getting the guy who did this? Creegan - _Creegan,_ look at me." He glared at him over his shoulder, seething at the indirect betrayal. "Listen to me - Branca'll make it. She'll make it, she's strong -" 

"She's _dead._" Rivers stopped, altogether silenced. He wasn't looking at him anymore, the tears were almost getting too thick to see through. His eyes were trained on the window of the hospital room, his fists clenched tightly, teeth grinding together in immeasurable grief. 

People rushed around him; everything became darker. Shadows moved across the wall, the floor, the sky outside blackened. _Cardiac arrest . . . _They brought in the defibrillator, and it barely registered with him as he saw Susan's slim body convulse there on the hospital bed. A dream that wasn't a dream; a nightmare that wasn't a dream but a real nightmare. 

"Clear!" [_bzzt_] 

_"Hi, I'm David Creegan."_

__

_"This is my office."_

__

_"Yeah . . . mine too."_

__

_"Uh, I don't think so. _Who_ are you . . .?"_

"Clear!" [_bzzt_] 

"Nothing -" 

"Charge." 

"Clear!" [_bzzt_] 

_"You should trust your instincts more, Susan."_

__

_"Thank you, Sir Alec Guinness."_

"Clear!" [_bzzt_] 

_"You're one of those Last Ones, aren't you?"_

__

_"No, it's not that."_

__

_"Yes it is."_

__

__"Readings?" 

"Flat - there's a large amount of blood blocking the -" 

"- risk of brain damage -" 

_"I . . . Sometimes I think I don't tell you enough."_

_"I still get it."_

__

_"I worry about you."_

__

_"You don't need to worry about me."_

__

_[Sometimes I think you want to go back.]_

__

_"Why do you think I work so hard here?"_

__

__Many things were an illusion. This wasn't. 

Somewhere above them, above all the lives that inhabited and scarred and bled the entire face of the earth, Heaven was welcoming a new soul. The loud sound of the flat-lined heart-monitor deafened him; something punctured his skin before he fell to the floor. 

_Heaven's burning down for this, Susan._

-- 

_Next day._

He woke up with a start, his hand going to his sore arm. It itched like crazy under his sleeve - pulling it up he gazed blearily at the bandage that hid the itch beneath and he tore it away, indulging himself at the relief. 

"Don't scratch that," a voice murmured from the doorway. He was in an office - some sort of waiting room. Rivers. 

Finally the memories clicked and he shot up from his seat. His knees felt watery and gave way, head throbbed as he fell back down. "Susan -" 

"Creegs." Rivers walked toward him, sat in the chair next to him and laid a hand on his arm. "You wouldn't shut up last night - finally some nurse injected you with something to put you to sleep. You were raving like some town lunatic - something about burning Heaven down just so Susan couldn't -" 

Creegan made a mad grab at Rivers' collar. "_How. Is. She?_" 

With all the cool calm in the world, Rivers let himself be roughly manhandled, blue eyes as bright as ice. "She died, Creegan. She died yesterday morning at precisely 10:58." Creegan's hands dropped from his collar. His lips parted, his eyes glazed over. How could he be like this? So robotic? What was wrong with him? What was _wrong _with the world? He swore time halted, his blood running cold. His heart literally stopped before Rivers continued. "She died and remained dead for approximately 10.5 minutes. She beat you, Creegs. Susan beat your record." It didn't register as David felt like he was going to plummet off the edge. Rivers stared intently at him; clearly his reaction amused him slightly now that he knew. "Hey - you okay man? Hello? Anybody home?" 

He was turning himself into such a sissy-boy. What with the shaking, the crying, the loss of a cool exterior. But Rivers let him be a sissy-boy - something to keep just between them. 

-- 

_OSC HQ. _

__

Susan wasn't out of the line of danger yet. She was for the moment housed in the ICU, having not yet awakened. There was still the possibility that her time in cardiac standstill could have ceased enough oxygen in enough time to create damage to her brain. At least she was alive. Creegan didn't have to be religious to see that as a blessing. He would have stayed with her until she had woken up except he had work to do. He was going to kill the bitch that did this. Not Bernal, not Rivers, not some wanna-be hero recruit, but _him_. 

"So Hallie Piper's full name before marriage was Helene Angela Townsend." They were in the War-Room, files haphazardly scattered everywhere as Rivers directed the case. No one could help but notice the emptiness in the room that only Susan could fill. "Bernal and I had visited Ronsen and Company, PC earlier this morning, and they told us that Piper wasn't at work and hasn't made an appearance there for over a week now. We tried her place and apparently she's cleared out, leaving all her belongings. About two weeks earlier she had originally came into the SFPD to report a mugging where she had received a stab wound. A knife was found near her apartment which was consistent with the cut on her thigh, and the lab checked out that it _was_ her blood, but with only her fingerprints." 

Creegan frowned; this was getting more and more complex. If only he'd seen this coming. "Meaning she was the only one who used the knife?" 

"Yeah. No leather imprints, no fiber traces - just old-fashioned fingerprint trademarked via Hallie Piper - or should I say Helene Townsend. The knife didn't show any other proof of being used. Brand new German steel." 

_Odd._ She didn't live far away from Creegan. Could that mean . . .? "So you're saying she stabbed herself and somehow dragged herself to Park Avenue to be found by me?" _Was she crazy enough?_ Oh yes. She was. 

Rivers held up a hand. "I'm getting to that." From a file, he pulled out a transparent slide and it on the projector. A face similar to his stared back at all of them. "This is - was - Andrew Piper, Hallie's deceased husband." He watched for a reaction in Creegan. "He looks very much like someone we know, wouldn't you say?" 

"You sure that ain't you, Creegan?" Bernal deadpanned from across the table, and Creegan awarded him with the finger. 

Creegan stood up from his seat, standing right in front of the projector screen, his eyes keenly studying the stranger's features: full lips, deep gray-blue eyes, the dark hair - but no scars. What _was_ this? "Hallie Piper saw me as her husband," he finally came to the conclusion as he turned to meet their stares, feeling their eyes comparing his face with a dead man's. "I knew I'd seen her before. She was staring at me about a year ago at the airport terminal before we went to Boston - she had two little boys. Her husband was standing near her - that's how I remember it because I thought I was looking at myself." 

"_Now _you remember," Bernal muttered and was ignored. 

Rivers nodded; it was becoming unveiled. "I managed to get into her medical records from years back," Rivers glanced warily at Enright. No complaint so he trudged on. "She was almost diagnosed with [anacardium] split personality disorder - a basic schizo but she somehow managed to tone down and no one became the wiser. She married, had a couple kids - two years later the kids and the husband die as their car dives into the lake with Hallie Piper barely scathed." 

__

_"My family was killed not too long ago in a car accident. My husband and two little boys. I was the one that survived the crash, getting away with no more than a few broken ribs, sprained ankle and a black eye, some minor bruising. Every time I got into a car, I felt like I was drowning. Something in my brain I guess."_

_Yeah, really,_ Creegan thought angrily. _Susan died because of you - she didn't get away barely unscathed._ After discovering this, he felt his lips were tainted after she'd kissed him. Guilty, too and if he felt shame this would be the good time to feel it. "The expensive perfume she was wearing - she had to have stolen that. Probably from one of the victims." Creegan thought out loud as he often did, staring at Andrew Piper's face. "The dress I found her in. Expensive name brand. She was wearing black gloves in the cell-phone store where she happened to meet me. She was showing abnormal behavior then, too . . ." 

Enright frowned in consternation. "So that was the disturbance I heard of. Really Creegan, you should have let us know about this directly and immediately." 

"Yeah, like showing your hospitality toward Hallie Piper in the first place," Bernal added; even with the snarky comments to bring Creegan down or somehow tag some sort of blame on him, he knew he was nervous and worried for Susan. Even Bernal wasn't that unfeeling. 

"Those gloves at her apartment were consistent with the black fibers found on Agent Rodriguez's neck," said Rivers, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He didn't get a wink of sleep and it was slowly catching up on him. "Lucas Miller helped indirectly with the murders though I don't think he was involved any more than he was. He has a credible alibi at the time of all the victims' deaths - however, we _do_ have enough evidence to suspect Hallie Piper for the murder of Athena Hausen and Vallerie Snider, not to mention Landon Rodriguez." 

"Perhaps the deaths of her family and her cousin who's a cancer-patient has taken its toll on her - she can now be labeled as unstable. Nobody let their guard down." Enright ordered, getting to grips that this was all or nothing now. 

"We have to find her," Creegan said firmly, his tone vindictive. "Because Susan's the only one that's survived out of all the vics so far - she's not safe until we bring this bitch into custody." With that said, he grabbed his coat, gun holstered and they were dispatched. 

-- 

Rivers and Creegan were in Rivers' car, strapping on their seat-belts. "Where do you think an unstable female would go when she's on the run?" Rivers quizzed as he started the engine. Creegan's famous brain functioned on adrenaline, anxious to get his hands on that woman - and not in any gentle way. Flashes of images entailed the question in his mind; where _would _she go . . .? __

__

_The doctor's just gave Danny five months._ He's all she's got now. 

"Oh _fuck_." 

"What?" 

Creegan turned in his seat, hand slapping the dashboard, voice rising. "Green's Hospital. Her cancer-patient cousin's in the same hospital as Susan." 

The tires squealed as they peeled out of the OSC driveway, ready to run a few more red lights. 

-- 

**Notes: **Sorry for the long wait again. I was on vacation. Going on vacation again this weekend [again, I'm sorry!]. Does this story warrant a sequel? Or a prequel? Whatever? Feedback would be good. One more chapter after this. The finale was awesome huh? I'm getting someone to mail the episodes to me - she's so fudgin' nice!! lol So anyway, I've been making TE avatars. They can be found in my blog - the link is in my FF.net profile. Hope you guys like them - some are 80x80 [forums] and some are 100x100 [LiveJournal] - you can do the resizing. I personally like the MUCH series: "Cough much?" From the finale when that Dr. was smoking? "Wet much?" From Purpose where JD's um...all wet? "Hurt like hell much?" From the pilot - the perp and the gun. Also a smiling Branca one that says "this is why." Guess where that one's from! Hee. I'm so glad there are so many TE fans! All praise TE [bow]. 

See you guys in the final chapter of Heaven's Burning! 

**THANK YOU SO MUCH dudes and dudettes**: 

Mrs. Rhett Butler: You're such a sweetie! Really. I hope your job's not taking its toll on you. God knows I need one. Blasted work force, grr . . . lol. Yes indeedy, the finale was SUPERB. Wish that gown fell a little more, didn't ya?? My brother-in-law was in surgery and when he got up off the bed [taking care of him was part of my "vacation"], and the gown slipped _all the way._ Holy. Cow. I laughed so hard because of course, all I saw was Creegan. Butt much?? Heehee! 

wiseoldman: I hope you won't be sad now that this story's coming to an end. :-( I'll be sad AND relieved! Hee. Thank you so much for reading, wiseoldman. Are you really a wise old man? Hum. 

GeorgieQ: LOL Wow, that's great how people think of my fic when they've watched the REAL thing. I am so goddamn flattered. Seriously. Rated R part huh? I know, I know, but it was my firstie fic, I didn't really want to delve into that when some people aren't ready for it [but you can guarantee I am!]. I've got one R rated fic in the mix. I've got a lot of work to do. Thanx again doll. ;D 

Galxychld: Would I let Susan die? Hm. Yes. Yes I would. I did. LOL Oh c'mon! Susan and David are like. . ._this_ [crosses fingers]. Yeah. They're like that. Heehee! Yeah, "did we sleep together? Did we _sleep_ together?" Yep, major difference! Thanx again. 

snosamie6: I hate me too! For taking so goddamn long! Hee. Sorry it took so long - I hope you were satisfied with this chappie. I tried. I really did. Not so many funny parts anymore - this story wasn't that funny, but then again it wasn't mean to be. Like the original TE plotline - some funny parts, but there are some dark stuff too. Thank you for reviewing! 

Alamo Girl: The FINALE WAS OH-SO-GREAT! LOL I don't think I'll be able to NOT watch it over and over again once I get the tape. Well, this was how Creegan reacted to Branca's car wreck! I wonder if that's how he would have acted in the original TE plotline...hm. :D Food for thought! Thanks for your wonderful review. 

Jennifer: Hey Jennifer! lol Sorry, I had to do that. Thanks for reading - I'm glad you like it. 

Self Injured: Hey Sid! Where's your story??! HURRY UP WITH IT!! Haha. I wanna read it already! Waaah! lol Yeah, I'm comin' out with a couple of new fics actually. Not gonna be up for a while though, which a while means like a couple weeks. We'll see, huh? So where's your story???! lol Okay, I'll stop ranting if you supply the demand. 

VivianeAeryn: Yes, poor Creegan. More like poor Branca! Ouch. lol It's just a scratch, rofl. Thanx for reviewing! :) 

NBLkolt: Aw! You're so nice! Heehee - yeah Hallie, that bitch. lol Anyway, I hope you liked the season finale - they better effing renew or I'm gonna hurt somebody!!! lol :D 

Crimson Alessa: LMAO Chapter 9 was sexy huh. Yeah, I guess it was. Of course anything with Creegan in it is sexy, no? ;D Thanx again! 

Flame31: Dude! Thanx a lot. Hope you liked this chapter. 

diddly day: "David is hot!" He sure is! I'll drink to that, hehe! Thank you for your review. I thought it was so nice!! 

SassyAngel05: Aw, thanks for your review Sassy! I'm glad you're still reading it. Just can't have enough SusanDavid interaction, now can we. Thank you again. 

Agent86: LOL That's hilarious! About the coffee while watching the surveillance camera screens! Even when there WAS no coffee in those cups?? Hahaha at least put some water in there or something! And what's wrong with drinking coffee while shooting?? Afraid of coffee breath? LOL Not like they go off-camera and start making out...heehee. Sorry, I was ranting. Thank you for thinking of my story while seeing the finale! [blush] :D 

Meghan: Don't be jealous - I'm sure you could think up a story just as good if not better for a Touching Evil fic. We just need to see more! Season Two, come forth! Hehee! Yessiree, I'm having my own withdrawal symptoms for TE...oh man! lol Thank you so much for reading. 

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	13. Inevitable :Finale:

**__**

Caveat: Touching Evil and all it's goodies does not with me have an affiliation therefore, a disclaimer this is. Haha, sounded really weird there didn't it? Ah well. _Le Finale de _Heaven's Burning! Glad it's over aren't ya? Yeah, me too. This story 'twas a result of temporary insanity/obsession. Hope you enjoy it! On a different note: Don't you guys just love the new avatars people are making recently? Sorry Jeffrey Donovan, where ever you are, people just humped your bandwagon to be perfectly honest. All I'm here for is for selfish reasons - like David Creegan perhaps. Hee. Sometimes it makes me feel better to know that JD and DC are two different entities. They both sure are attractive though [laughs]. Okay, enough of this. Read. Now, or forever hold your urine.

****

- Heaven's Burning -

By Mia [Ai-no-Tora]

****

Chapter Thirteen: Inevitable _[finale]_

__

Green's Hospital. ICU Ward.

She had gone this far and she was determined to end it her way and no other.

She spied upon the sharp object like one would notice a barely conceivable stain; it caught her eye and held it and just as soon as the nurse turned her back, she found it in her hand; cold and hard and real and powerful. She wielded the whole world in her hands within the single swipe of her wrist.

Now under the softened light shining on the sharp edge of the scalpel, Hallie gazed upon the beauty that defeated her in the end. The woman named Susan breathed steadily, eyes closed, delicate lashes laid over delicate ivory skin, ivory skin that was unearthly pale. She tried but failed to see what made her so special in _{Andrew's} _David's eyes. Her reddish-brown eyes narrowed in observance. She gauged how long it would take for _{Andrew}_ David to come find her, how many seconds would tick until the linear open wound gush blood upon the hospital bed until there was no white left. Her neck seemed to soft, supple, vulnerable. Just one slash and she would be closer to getting her way.

Half her face in shadow, one could only make out Helene Angela's lips which were slightly curved; it was partially hidden but it was there. A crazed smile. _So it's come down to this, has it? It's inevitable, love. With life, death is inevitable. No one lives without dying; this is your turn to shine once more amongst your lonely necessities, Agent Branca._

--

Creegan fumbled with the car door until he swung it wide open, denting the car next to it and setting off the alarm. Rivers took only a moment to cringe before following after him inside the hospital, not having any choice but to ignore it. Flipping open his cell, Creegan dialed a number and waited for someone to pick up, adjusting the chain around his neck that had his badge displayed on his chest to avoid questions; he had managed to retrieve a spare badge from one of Enright's operatives.

"Bernal."

Rivers opened the door for Creegan and he swept by, eyes looking around hurriedly as nurses and doctors alike turned to look at him, the badge flashing in the light of their puzzled faces. "We're - Rivers and I - we're at Green's Hospital right now."

"You're visiting Branca at a time like this?" Bernal sounded incredulous as though Creegan were bypassing his duty.

"Shut up, Bernie." David made his way to an elevator as Mark followed closely behind. "Hallie Piper's cousin is in the same hospital as Susan. I have a hunch she'll either be with her cousin who has only five months to live, or she'll be after Susan who's being kept nearby." He banged the appropriate number on the elevator door, cursing breathily. "Why didn't anybody get stationed here to look after her?!" He didn't wait for a reply, knowing he got the point across. "Send for more back-up. We've got a psychotic roaming around a bunch of innocent patients. Tell Enright to get his ass in gear or I'm going on ahead of him." Flipping the cell closed, he turned to look at Rivers who was currently sweating from fatigue and stress.

"I think I need a vacation after this," Mark confessed for a moment's sake. Creegan took a second to regard him thoughtfully; Rivers was just like him, in a way fighting for someone they believed in. Plus he looked like hell.

He reached for his gun, cocked and loaded it with a loud echoing _click_ as his partner followed suit. "I think Susan's the one that especially needs one, after this."

The elevator doors slid open. Mark started to follow after David before he was stopped with a hand on the shoulder. "Go to room 33," he ordered. "Just in case she's in the cousin's room."

Despite knowing there was no room for hesitation, Rivers stared intently at him; he knew there was something not quite right. "Creeg -"

Creegan pushed at him. "_Go._" Stepping back, Rivers bit his lip before turning and running the opposite direction. Creegan only stared after him wearily, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. He needed to get rid of Rivers for the moment; this was his mission, his job. There was no doubt in his mind that Hallie would be waiting for him, and not in her cousin's room either. His hand gripped tighter around his gun as he made his way to Branca's room.

He was more than ready to fire a bullet into that woman's head.

--

The corridor was sparse with people, the blurred sound of his shoes against the floor was the only thing he heard besides the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. The door came up quickly; dim light spread across the shiny floor as he leant against the wall, gun held up, then slowly, ever so slowly he rounded, gun pointed forward and sweeping the open doorway into the room.

His eyes didn't need a moment to adjust as he scanned the room and the first thing he saw was Susan. His mouth filled with saliva and he consciously swallowed; it was the last thing he needed right now, for his eyes to mimic his mouth as they filled with tears. One eye was swollen and bruised, a darkened yam purple. Her soft lips were split, a bandage on the side of her head as a tube was inserted in her mouth and she breathed somewhat shakily. A shadowed hand holding a shiny-edged weapon hovered near her life support machine and all that was needed was a quick swipe and everything was lost. An angry growl escaped Creegan's lips as he moved forward. "_Don't. _Don't you dare make her go through it again."

As soon as Hallie stepped into the light, his gun barrel was aimed instantly on her heart; a small battle fought within whether or not to shoot her in the head instead. "You came," Her voice sounded hopeful, two dimensional and breathy. Her eyes flashed brown-red at him, daring, taunting. His finger inched toward the trigger, his lips curled. "I missed you Andrew." She shook her head as though stuck in a reverie. "David . . ."

He was on the other side of Susan's bed when the name clicked in his head. "Oh, so now the cat's outta the bag." He sneered mirthlessly. "You killed Andrew, didn't you _Helene_? You killed him for cheating on you with Athena . . . Just tell me this: what'd your kids ever do to you?"

Hallie's eyes narrowed, the scalpel nearing the wire connecting Susan to the living. "I never meant to kill my children. I never meant to kill anyone!"

"Yeah, but that didn't stop you from going after Susan, did it?!" His index finger curled around the trigger; all he needed was a little more . . . A little more . . . And she'd be blown away. Just a little more . . .

He was practically begging her to make him shoot her and she could feel it. "Have you ever felt . . .like you were doing something against your will?" She questioned, suddenly innocent and truthful. He hated her for it.

"Everyone has felt like that at some point - but it doesn't exempt their guilt from killing someone."

She chuckled, strained as she gazed down at Susan. "This is different. It's as though I've been feeling someone else's raw emotions ever since . . .ever since Andrew died. I didn't think I could feel in such a way; there was two parts to me, one who would never do anything the other part could - like murder. At first it was just thoughts - the mailman hit on me and I thought to myself how I wanted to kill him then sending his wife his heart in a baggie. But it escalated to something more real, more aggressive - more _animalistic _afterwards." With her free hand, she ran a hand through her hair. "Then I heard about Athena seducing my husband. That whore . . .she didn't deserve him, you know. She didn't deserve someone so great as Andrew. He loved _me_, he _never_ loved _her, _but that wasn't enough. I had to get rid of her and I did . . ."

Gun trained on every movement she made, Creegan was on a standstill. _Just a little more._ "And Valerie Snider? You killed her too?"

"She heard of my plans of getting rid of Athena. She was the first to go." Creegan flinched as she smoothly brushed the edge of the scalpel against Susan's jaw. "Then it was Athena . . . Then your Agent Rodriguez. He tried to rape me you know - he'd asked me on a date after I visited you at your office. I was . . . upset after I'd seen what this woman meant to you," She gestured toward Susan. "I saw the way you looked at her, the way you touched her, how you breathed in her scent. I didn't need a sign to advertise how you felt about her. I was the only one in the room who knew." She took a deep breath. "I desperately needed to do something. . I wasn't going to let him defile me with hands sworn to serve and protect." She laughed out loud at the iconicity of her words. Creegan moved toward the foot of the bed and jerked the gun at her. She only absently looked toward him, bemused. "I thought I had found something in you. Turns out you're just like all of them; a lonely little drone so thirsty for love. I didn't have a choice with this one, David. I didn't."

"But I do." He was only a few feet away; the risk of Hallie's blood falling on Susan was the only thing that made him hesitate. "You better hope your insurance covers facial reconstruction because after I'm done with you, nobody will ever recognize you as either Hallie Piper or Helene Townsend."

Hallie almost shrunk away from his icy threat. "Go ahead," she taunted, trembling, the scalpel biting into the life support cord. "Shoot me. Make your choice."

He could hear the clock above the door ticking; he could hear Hallie swallow, her throat contracting and releasing saliva; he could hear Susan's heart monitor and its steady beat. Surprisingly he didn't feel like God at this point of no return; he felt human, inobstrusively and undeniably human. A small stain that mattered. To Hallie's surprise, his gun lowered and she recovered a little. "I better not," said Creegan, slowly laying the gun near Susan's still hand before turning fully toward Hallie. "Or you might end up as clever as me . . .!"

She saw him lunge forward - giving her enough time to splice through the wires in the cord - and yet again there was that sound that defeaned him as he tackled her to the floor. Too late from saving the cord; he grabbed her wrist and banged it against the floor, the scalpel falling out of her grasp and clattering somewhere under the bed as his hands wound around her neck, thumbs pressed forcefully on her throat. "_Bad . . . _choice!" Creegan cried, straddling her there on the floor, choking what life she had but didn't deserve. The tears were exposed now, falling onto her face as her eyes shined under the dim light, mouth parted in a silent plea as her head hit the hard floor over and over, her hands clawing at his.

"P-_Please . . . An-Andrew -_"

Creegan sobbed angrily. "Don't _call me_ that!!" The hands grew tighter, her eyes bulging in their sockets. The sound of several footsteps resonated from down the hall, nearing and entering the room. Susan's heart monitor ever so present in the abyss of his control. "_You . . . die . . .!_"

"Creegan, stop!" Someone - Rivers - was struggling to wrench David's hands free from Hallie's neck and at first he was met by difficulty before several more strange hands got a hold of the wild detective and restrained him, as he spat at them to let him finish what he came there to do.

Then there was nothing. All he could see in his mind's eye was Susan, all alone in the hospital bed, pale as the full moon on a clear night. OSC agents, hospital security - _everyone else_ disappeared all within the blink of an eye.

__

One last time. Just give me another chance. One last time.

He once again felt something puncture his skin, and with his last ounce of strength, he made his way toward Susan and grabbed a hold of her hand before his world turned blacker than death.

--

__

24 Hours Later . . .

"Hey. Hellooo . . . _Hey!_" He jerked, startled at the blinding light coming from a large window and he squeezed his eyes shut again, hands shielding his face. "God, I was wondering when you would wake up. I bet you've never slept this long, have you?" Creegan opened one eye and glared it upon the perky face of Mark Rivers. "Didn't think so. Here, have some java - it's kinda cooled off but you'll live." He chuckled, slapping his shoulder. "You always do."

Once more he was in some kind of small office; different this time, it seemed like it was a small living arrangement for doctors who stayed overnight. He sat up in the cot he was slouched on as though someone hurriedly dumped him there. One side of his neck creaked in pain as he rubbed it thoroughly, accepting the cup Rivers offered him. Groggily, he looked into the coffee's surface, seeing his haggard reflection stare back at him. "Yes or no, Mark." He didn't look up as he braced himself against the inevitable.

The opposite detective looked at him thoughtfully, slurping his own cup of coffee from where he sat in a nearby folding chair. "Creegan," He began in a gentle tone.

"_Yes_ or _no_."

Rivers sighed. "Yes. Yes, Creegan. She lived." He uncrossed his legs. "Susan. She's okay."

Creegan's eyes drifted shut, head tilting up toward the heaven's as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Good . . ." He laughed loudly like a crazy man. Like Creegan. "Good."

--

__

A day later . . .

Something hard and firm wrapped around her hand. Susan whimpered, muttering something about five more minutes before she could open one of her swollen eyes but it wasn't from pain that a tear leaked down the side of her face as she fought to focus the blurry image on her bedside. "Susan . . ." It wasn't David. Something in her cried.

"Wh-Who . . ."

The large figure barked in laughter. "You'll figure it out eventually. Tell David not to play with divine matches. He'll know what I mean." He patted her hand before she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. "They'd let you in, you know. Alpha-9. Dream reality, Susan. There's always you." The sentence ended abruptly in a whisper before she was out again.

She couldn't tell the duration of time that went by in between speaking with Cyril until the next time she woke up - it could have been hours, days, weeks . . . All that she knew was that she ached all over.

She experimented by flexing first the fingers of her right hand; that didn't seem so bad. Then it was her left that seemed to be wrapped in something. Someone else's hand. She glanced off to the side; there by her bedside was David, resting his head near her forearm, eyes closed and his breathing steady. The mere sight warmed her inside but it hurt too much to cry. Who knew how long he'd stayed by her side since the accident. Speaking of which, she didn't even know how she got there, what exactly had happened.

As she lost herself in her train of thought, Creegan stirred and dreamily peeked open his eyes and as they met hers, he straightened quickly. "Susan . . .!" Her breath was taken away when he leaned over to hug her, and she let out a small noise at the gesture. He leaned back as though he'd burned her, concerned eyes trained on her face. "Oh - Sorry, did I hurt you? Shit - I forgot that -"

"I'm all right, it only hurts when I breathe," She chuckled and winced at the single splice of lyric from a Melissa Etheridge song. She reached up and pulled his arm down to her, resting a hand on his cheek. "David, I . . ." Her voice caught as he covered her again, her face hidden in the hollow of his neck and shoulder. Her lips brushed against his neck and he fought to focus at a time like this. "I-I missed you - God . . . you were right. The tough part _was_ coming back." He smiled slightly, caressing her hair as he kissed her head. "You lied to me, David. You lied . . . that's one reason I was sent - I mean, that's one reason I came back." _Because I love you._ He leaned back a little to look down at her.

"Lied to you . . .?"

"It wasn't Starbucks this time. KFC, David. Kentucky Fried Chicken." He blinked for a couple moments before a huge grin widened out across his mouth and he leaned forward and kissed her mouth tentatively in order not to harm her split lip. In between kisses, Susan giggled much like a gleeful young girl. That was her true self; innocent to the heart and that was another thing he loved about her.

"I'm so sorry this . . . that you . . ." David began, but she cut him off with another kiss before she set her head back upon her pillow; she never knew that such a simple action could exhaust her so.

"I get it though. I knew from the very beginning that I'd have to go through this much to stay with you; every little bit is worth it." She held her hand in his, taking a deep breath as he adjusted her pillow for her. "You know, that time when Judith Carny applied doxygen to your system and you had died again? Remember that?" He nodded in recollection. "You have no idea how afraid I was to lose you. I wasn't even thinking about catching Judith - only saving you. You'd died two times since the time you were born - probably more so emotionally. Me too, David. Me too . . ."

"And for that . . . I'm both sad and glad to have met you. " Creegan looked sadly down at her as he brushed aside a lock of her hair to the side of her face, hearing her breath catch. He reached for a cup of water on a nearby tray and offered it to her, helping her drink it. He'd prayed, surprisingly, to any god or entity with power that he'd be able to do this, to help her, to see her alive and talking to him and that he would give anything to pay the price. He just hoped the price was never too great for something like a life this woman obviously deserved. Once she finished, he stared down at her and he tried to think of the right words to say.

"You know what I think," He started, running his fingers down her arm. "I think that you and I were meant to be. Our near death experiences must have canceled each other out - we're two of a kind you see. We're . . .We're like this," He brought up a hand and crossed his index and middle finger, bringing forth a smile from her. "And I think this is only the beginning of the beginning, not the end like everything else."

She knew it was true. _Death is the illusion. _A soft smile graced her lips. _But death hurts too much to be an illusion, David._

Yeah? So does life. It's called life for a reason.

True.

"Cyril wanted me to pass a message onto you."

Creegan's brows raised. "Cyril? He was here?" Part of him wanted to doubt her; maybe it was the drugs. Maybe she saw things. Maybe he should just believe her because in his heart he wanted to.

"Yes - I don't know of anyone else who'd invite me to Alpha 9." Creegan chuckled and waited for her to go on. "He wanted me to tell you 'not to play with divine matches.' He said you'd know what he meant. What _did_ he mean by that?" Thoughts echoed in the hallways of his brain as he worked on that particular message. Through the curtains, the sun burned a bright orange like a lively flame; it was a beautiful sunset on such a long day.

__

Heaven's burning down for this, Susan.

A nurse came in the doorway to ask if Susan needed to use the bathroom, arising an interest in Creegan instantly. "Ooh! Can I watch - I mean, _help_ with your gown if it slips down or something?"

"You really want to be slapped again, don't you?"

From that moment on, seeing his gentle childlike smile never meant more to her than that point in time.

--

__

Weeks later . . .

"She's sleeping for the moment."

Alex glared balefully at the nurse who blocked the doorway to Susan's room. "Oh really. Why, praytell, is her boyfriend doing in there talking with her then?" Indeed the 'boyfriend,' who was Creegan, was standing beside Susan, back toward her.

"W-Well . . ." The nurse stammered, looking down at the file in her hands. "He's a detective and her partner -"

"Partner is right," She grinned to herself before it faded and she waved the bouquet of flowers in front of the nurse's face. "Step aside, hun and let me through." The nurse's lips pursed at Alex's flippant tone. "Oh yes: by the way, what's your name?"

The nurse looked skeptically at her. "Laura Bridgeton."

"Noted. Excuse me Ms. Bridgeton - your lack of hospitality will be reported in due time. Thank you." Sidestepping the nurse, she went on ahead and entered the room. Susan looked up and smiled just as she came by and Creegan followed suit, raising an eyebrow at her. "No need to get territorial, Mr. Creegan," Alex held up her hands, indicating the innocent bouquet of flowers. "Just a bit of a peace offering, mind you."

"Nice to see you too, Alexandria," David grinned and to her surprise, enveloped her in a hug. Susan noted with amusement as the color rose in her friend's cheeks as he released her. "Okidoke, I guess I'll leave you two ladies alone for the moment." He gave Susan a meaningful glance, one that meant a playful _I'm not finished with you_, one that he'd always give her every time he left her in the company of someone else.

"Bye," The ladies replied and as Creegan turned toward the door, he'd received a sound slap on the ass from Alex as Susan's laughter echoed down the hall.

--

__

About a year later. _Women's State Prison/Insane Asylum._

Autumn had descended and the days grew shorter as the Rivers, Creegan and Branca all climbed into Branca's new car on one of her 'errands.' Susan had told the other two that she was merely visiting someone she knew from way back when, and Creegan, ever the curious one decided to join her after work, and Rivers, who had nothing better to do than to go to some titty bar and wallow in alcohol, decided to make himself the third wheel. It was a long drive, but before any of the two males could say 'are we there yet,' they'd arrived at a classically dark place borne from some cheesy horror movie.

"Hey Brancs," Rivers was well on his way to wearing out the nickname as he looked out the window at the depressingly gray building. "Why are we at a women's prison?"

"It's also an insane asylum, just for you Mark," she said sarcastically. Branca put the car in park, engaging the hand brake as she looked at Rivers in the rearview mirror. "This is where the person I'm to visit is staying. Lovely place isn't it?"

"Dungeons and grungy motels are more my style," Creegan muttered as he no sooner caught on to her game. "What ever made you think of her now? And after what she did to you . . ."

Susan shrugged, tracing the outline of the steering wheel. "I'm only going to thank her. That's all." She brushed a lock of hair in front of the small scar on her forehead in order to keep it discreet. She remembered how Creegan had come over to her house one time and found her applying cover-up to the small scar, and he immediately went over and wiped the stuff off. His only explanation was _it's the only way people can tell that we are linked to each other. _She'd laughed and told him _it isn't what's here_, she indicated to the scar, _but what's here,_ she laid a hand on his heart. Hopefully over time he'll be able to understand. She came here to thank Hallie for making her understand herself; some simple things could be the most complex to some.

"Creegan almost thanked her for you; he almost killed her the second time she tried to kill you," Rivers remarked from the back-seat. "Almost split her windpipe. I would have gone the easier way and shot her to death."

All this morbid talk was turning her off as she opened her door then stopped when she noticed Creegan doing the same. She grabbed his coat as he fell back in the seat. "_You,_" She said firmly. "Stay _here._"

"What? Why?" Even if it was ridiculous to feel jealous, she kept it hidden under weary cautiousness.

"She's crazy, remember? You might trigger something."

Creegan looked at her as though she'd just stolen his dignity. "Just in case you've forgotten, she tried to kill _you_, not _me._"

She patted his head like a small child. "Don't fidget, you might wrinkle your jeans." Rivers laughed at that as Creegan glared him down. "Besides, it's not like she can configure a wreck to happen while she's in handcuffs."

"Hm, I dunno Brancs, I've seen people do some wanky stuff in cuffs." Both Creegan and Branca raise a suspicious eyebrow at him as Rivers shrugged. "What . . .?"

Branca shook her head and stepped outside, leaning down to bark orders. "Keep him company for me Fetish-Boy and _you,_" Reaching across the gearshift once again for Creegan's jacket hem as he once again became an attempted escapee. "_Behave._" She waited patiently until he reluctantly closed the door again, mumbling and crossing his arms in deviance. She closed her own door and adjusted her jacket, then made her way to the gate.

"Hey, this isn't so bad," Rivers piped up. "We can play the alphabet game or _Guess the Bitch Leader,_" He pointed toward the yard where several women prisoners were running around.

"_Ugh,_" Creegan groaned. "Shut up or I'll fart something bad and lock you in."

There was only exactly one minute of silence before Rivers opened his mouth again. "So. Have you and Branca . . .?"

"I'm seriously letting one, Marky." Creegan warned.

"You're _boring,_" Mark childishly complained as he sat back and looked around for something else to amuse him. Creegan pouted thoughtfully; this time around it was Rivers who needed amusing. That in itself was amusing to him. He glanced toward the gray building that Susan just disappeared into. What exactly was she doing in there?

--

Susan watched with bright blue eyes from where she sat as a guard led Hallie, who was bound in cuffs on the hands and ankles to a chair across a table from her. Hair mussed, deathly pale and dark shadows inhibiting under Hallie's eyes, she resembled death herself.

Hallie was first to speak. "Do you have any smokes on you?"

Susan frowned. "I don't smoke and neither should you."

Hallie laughed, all the color in her voice gone and it sounded empty. "I'm in here on death row and you only came here to tell me to stop smoking? Fine job, _detective._"

Susan's face softened as she laid a hand on the cold table. "I came here to thank you. Really, Helene. You helped me straighten out a few things."

"Too bad you weren't able to stay fully in the light," The haggard woman replied, biting on a hangnail. She fixed a forlorn eye on her. "So let me get this straight: you came here to thank me for killing you?"

Susan cleared her throat a bit, glancing out the window. "Technically, yes. For letting me in on exactly how David ticks. I never quite understood him until now." She paused. "Also, I'm sorry about Danny . . . He didn't quite make five months."

A silence seared through the cold air as the chains rattled and clung heavily to Hallie's still soft skin. "You know. Don't you?" Branca turned her gaze toward her. "A man nearest you - the one who shot and left Andrew for dead. You know who he is, don't you?"

"Andrew . . .?" Branca tried to make sense of it. "You mean David."

"Andrew, David . . . they're one and the same," Hallie waved a hand absently in the air as though fanning smoke away, an insignificant detail flying before her. "He's amongst you. You work closely with him. He loves you more than you know and he's come back to finish what he's started."

Susan looked more intensely at her. "Who are you _talking_ about?"

In reply Hallie only laughed cruelly, making the chains that bound her rattle in the air hovering over them. "He hates Andrew! He's tried to get rid of him before - and he'll kill him again if you don't stop him, _Agent,_" She continued to cackle loudly, turning to shrieks as she thrust an accusing finger only an inch away from Susan's face, trying to jump over the table. "I _should've killed _you when I had the _chance . . .!_" Getting up from the chair, Susan automatically reached for the gun that wasn't there but was being kept down in the secure lobby, and she turned just as Hallie lunged for her. A security officer made a grab at her hair and held her at bay like one would with a dog and a chain choker. She howled incessantly for him to release her, and as she was being dragged away back into her cell, Susan couldn't help but think over the words of a mad woman, still hearing her parting yells of, "_Murderer! You've killed him! You've KILLED him!!!_"

__

He's tried to get rid of him before . . .

__

. . .and he'll kill him again.

The room suddenly grew so cold as to the point where she could see a faint trace of her breath in the air. _What - no, _who_ was she talking about . . .?_

As she walked out to the car, still Hallie's words haunted her but she made no effort to mention it as she saw Creegan leaning against her car, rising and closing the gap between them. "Hey, what's wrong?" He looked worriedly down at her. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

__

No, I'm just deciding whether or not to trust the words of a lunatic. "No, I've just had a long day, plus I just visited a woman that tried to kill me. Let's go." He obeyed reluctantly and got in the car, reading her every movement from the door slamming to the key turning. She only turned to him once with a wrinkle of her nose. "What is that _smell . . ._?" Innocently, Creegan pointed a finger at a comically passed-out Rivers in the back-seat.

"He did it."

Temporarily Hallie's chilling warning was forgotten as she laughed it off, pushing the button to roll down all the windows.

__

Heaven has burned down, but it's recuperating.

"Anybody up for a visit to Planet WD40?"

"It's Alpha 9, Susan. And yes, we'd love to see Cyril."

She smiled back. "David."

He stopped mid-reach toward the radio. "Yes, Susan."

"Buckle up."

__

- THE END -

[of the beginning . . .?]

--

****

Notes: I've always thought that the "Space Between" song by The Dave Matthew Band or "Caught in the Sun" by Course of Nature would be good at the end. Eh.

THERE! AAAAAH...Finally done. There. Ah. Okay, I've already said that. Yay! [jumps up and down and doing the mambo] Okay, maybe I'LL be the loon here, lol. Hope you liked this story. I think you did . . . something tells me that you did, hehe. The ending opens it to a sequel, but who knows? [shrugs] I think I'm going to wait until Season Two. Maybe not. We'll just see. Depends if people are still interested. On a lighter note: I got my tapes! So far I've seen every single ep of Touching Evil there is. I'm such an obsesessed idiot. Forgive me. Hey, I haven't written any letters to USA Network, nor have I made any websites in honor of Touching Evil or any of its cast members. Hm. Only 'cuz I can't, haha.

****

[THE END ROLLING CREDITS] THANK YOU KIND SUPPORTERS:

Mrs. Rhett Butler: Aw, yeah, I ain't patient either, but who really is?? Yep. Cry all you want. It's over [waaaah!] lol! Susan's awake - I made it so easy for her to wake up - not even a limb amputated, ain't that great?! Eh. Maybe in the sequel [if I do decide to do one], I'll go more into detail about how the accident effected her. Now I must go and write this hurriedly fast 'cuz I'm on a sedative 'cuz of my insomnia. Hope you stay in touch. Peace out doll. P.S.: No, my brother in law's not as cute as Creegan. But who is? Hee.

Viviane Aeryn: Thank you so much for sticking around until the very end. Hope you liked this chappie.

Meghan: Screw my vacation? LOL I did actually - I screwed it until this weekend Yay - going to Vancouver, BC. Too bad TE's not filming anymore. Boo. Haha, dunno if I can do both a prequel and a sequel. Great idea though. Maybe I will if I get bored enough. Or inspired. Hee.

Lillybell: Aw thanx for wishing me an awesome vacation! That was so nice! [hug] Thank you for reading the whole story. That means a tremendous lot, really. [sniff]

Sandra hinson: Waiting impatiently, eh? Well, love the honesty! Heehee. Love that you were waiting in the first place. Awesome. Thanks for the review!!

Wiseoldman: I hope this chapter rocked really intense uber. LOL Gotten any wiser yet? Thanx again!

Self Injured: COME ON, Syd! I was really contemplating whether or not to send you an anonymous hate letter about your fic 'cuz I WANNA READ THE REST OF IT!! LOL! Seriously. Come back from wherever you said you went for vacation. I can't WAIT!!

NBLkolt: Here ya go! You wanted to see what happened, this is what happened. Hope it wasn't too hurried. Thank you so much for all the kind reviews you've give me from the very start. They're what kept me going. :D

Diddly day: Alas, my fic doesn't cure up anything with me. I want the real stuff, and I want it now!! [turns crazy - er . . . Crazy-_er . . ._] LOL! Thank you for your review.

Galxychld: Another request for a sequel? OH man! LOL Don't get me wrong, I do want to write one, it's just thinking up one is the tough part. Perhaps. We shall see. :D Thank you for all your wonderful reviews, Galxychld. This is the result. I hope it's good.

Crimson Alessa: LOL I hope you enjoyed the other chapters. Totally kickass, I love the phrase. Rock on. Thanx very much for everything.

Jennifer: Of course Susan didn't die. Everybody'd hate me if I let her die! LOL Sounds like she was running a marathon: "She beat your record, Creegs." Haha, next we have the 90 meter hurdle! Or whatever . . . Hee. Another sequel/prequel request. My. Thank you so much.

Flame31: Dude! Here's the next and final installment. I hope you didn't hate it. If you hated it, well, hm, there's always a first. :D Thanx man, for your cut-to-the-point reviews.

Janie: "Janie's got a gun!" LOL Sorry. Thanx hun, hoped you liked this.

Mad-mad-world: I know this story's not the best, but I sure am glad you thought it cool. :D

Alamo Girl: Thank you so much Alamo, and I hope you had a kickass vacation. Kudos to you, and a very big thank you hug. :D

GeorgieQ: Me? Your favorite fanfic author? [faints and dies] Holy. Matrimony. I do feel honored, unworthy is the word. Still, thank you so much for every single review you bothered to put out. Special they are, indeed. :D Hope you liked Creegan trying to off Hallie. I thought it only fair, but she didn't die 'cuz well, I wanted her to rot in jail instead, lol.

Snosamie6: Nope, not a super-angsty sad story. Not really for the most part anyway. Kept that way. LOL To hell with your 5th grade English teacher [I hated mine, just so you know lol!]. She can suck a big fat one haha! You can start and end with 'and's and 'but's as much as you want when reviewing to me! [Just don't do it when you're in class, eek] Thank you snosamie. It's been real. Stay cool, stay in school or whatever the heck they say haha.

SassyAngel05: Last but definitely not the least. My sedative's working now and I must run. I'm glad you thought it was amazing. Thank you. All your reviews were amazing to me. Have fun you. [drug-induced hug]

And I thank all who have lurked around reading this story. You know who you are. ;D [wink and a slap on the ass]. It'd be nice if you'd delurked and left a little love for someone so bored such as me. Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto.

-Always me, Mia

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